Bouquet of Flowers
I was sitting by myself
in my backyard.
The thought of you
gently invaded my mind.
I got the feeling to do something nice for you
but I didn’t know what I should do.
I noticed how the dandelions
and daisies swayed with the breeze.
They remined me of how much you like
flowers so I went to the florist.
I looked around. The florist asked me,
“Can I help you with anything?”
I said, “Yes, do you have any
flowers with the roots still attached?”
There was a three second silence
that felt like ten times as long.
“Why do you want the roots?” she asked.
“Never mind. Thanks,” I said as I left.
I went to your house.
My hand trembled
as I rung your doorbell.
About a minute later you
opened the door.
In my sweaty palm
I held a bouquet of flowers,
if you’d like to call them that.
The same flowers that inspired this visit
were there in my hand with cleaned roots.
“I remembered how much you liked flowers
so I picked these for you,” I said,
“I left the roots so they’ll grow even more.”
My mind asked me why anyone would want
to plant weeds. It said it was a pathetic attempt
to express my love. Yet my heart said the complete
opposite.
As I went back and forth inside
you stepped out and led me to your backyard.
You dug a small spot in your garden
and told me to plant the bouquet there.
As the raging war inside ended
I was immediately overwhelmed
with your acceptance.
We carefully planted the bouquet together
and watched it grow every since.
Brittany Brice 