Flowers

Enough time has passed now
And your flowers
Have become a source of discomfort for me.

I take such care to pick them out
To water them
To trim their stems
To arrange them
To find the perfect ribbon
And wrap them

And in those moments I am happy
Bringing you beauty from this world
Gives me peace

But as I watch your resting place
Slowly overgrow
With colors I did not choose for you
As the biting cold of Connecticut winters
Fails to preserve your roses and gardenias and lilies
And the petals all fall off

I remember why you’re gone.