Bouquet of Flowers

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.

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