pickles and flowers


you left just as your flowers began to wilt
luckily there was a bud yet to blossom
and a few petals more resilient to your leaving

the grocery store has the fresh pickles we like
you can pick them out by their vibrant green
unlike the ones that  were there from last week
which have gone to much, much like your bouquet

still I’m sure you’re happy, and so I am for you
having gone to see old friends for an escape
from this mundane daily oozing of time
as the river does in dry spells, carrying silt

though matter-of-factly we move along
and when you return, I promise, there will be fresh cut flowers
I will have eaten the pickles, no doubt, life’s not perfect
but we can again sit in our flowerbox apartment together
waiting out Winter’s slow yawn, for Spring’s life ahead


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