The flowers; he'd be throwing them away.
So we did. Every bloom and bud we could
That wasn't crushed, spent, damaged or broken.
We gathered them gently into our arms
And took them home where we put them in jars,
Vases, bottles arranging them as well
As we could. The flowers brought color back
Into what had been a very gray week
And a bit of light into our dark times.
Now, as each day passes, more flowers fade;
Petals dropping silently, leaves drooping.
We can press some of them into a book.
If we lay them in the garden, might seeds
Take root and in the Spring grow back again?
Anything to keep these flowers alive,
To make them last a little bit longer.
Because while I still have the flowers here,
I won't really have to tell her good-bye.
Caren E. Salas