Ditch Lilies

by | April 5, 2021

All across the yard, false

peach. Elm trees spitting

shadow on their heads.


Like an ocean, he says,

thumbing the brim of his

cap, like lilies. The golden


in them. We’re far away

from ourselves, her ashes

dusted in a field, your voice


still scattering my dreams.

The pastor blesses vacuum-

packed communion on the


porch. Consider the lilies.

She planted them, he says,

too weak to stand for long


by then, him holding up

the pot through that last spring.

Life at the end of life, the


March light grey and rare.

Her soap-smell sticking in

the house. He sleeps at the


desk till I wake him. Will

this make me good. Does

the hunger fade. Will I grow


old in love like theirs. Her

jewellery heavy in my ears.

Dear future I can’t see the


ending. Dear future I can’t

find myself in you. Can I

say now I am these flowers,


floppy and proud, blooming

only for a day?