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Garden Delight by Mary Flynn You worked there in the garden where I watched you from afar, yourself so like a flower; I watched you snip and prune with smudges on your cheek, and a few cascading threads of whitened hair you pushed away with the back of one gloved hand. I watched your pleasure bloom as your basket filled with vibrant color—hollyhocks, mums, daisies and nasturtiums to bring inside and fuss with at the table, catching the aroma with a smile and some sense, perhaps, of beholding a treasure. I beheld you so, as I watched you, knowing that just as surely as the tulips would drop their petals, so too would you have spent your time and no more, leaving behind the sweetness of your life— my fragrance, my treasure.
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