Renee Writes

The calendar says it’s time.
It’s nothing new.
For over half a century, I have seen this death –
over and over again.
Usually I welcome it.
The bare truth is:
I’m exhausted from tending to the plants,
I’m ready to be done.

But this year is different;
the flowers are still in bloom!!
They got a late start and have
so much glory left in them.
More buds to open,
More bees to entice,
More moments for me to
take joy in their existence.

The weather app says they will die this week.
Fuck the weather app.

I might dig them up and bring them in.
But that’s absurd – I know how deep those roots go.
Besides, they love the dirt, the air, the unfiltered sun.
I doubt they could survive the confines of a pot.

How can they end when there is still so much beauty in them?
Just look at them still growing and spreading,
reaching for new territory!
How can this season be over
when there was more I wanted to say?
More laughs to listen to.
More growth to celebrate.
More explosive color to marvel at.

But the cold came too soon.
I wasn’t ready.