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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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