"almost one hundred blooms"
she counted
as she went.

She'd downsized in the end,
put her wedding dishes in her closet
with her clothes,
taking them out often,
not for eating, but
for guests to admire.

"These two long strands
of orchids,"
she told me,
"do not fit
in my small room."

(I had embraced
her favorite nephew's body so
she smiled
and gave them all to me.)

I shaped the long straight stems
to circles
for my hats.
I'm her ephemera
(and wear them often)
lavender,
and silk-white,
with deep rose
petal wings.

They're (as she intended)
of her,
and of
my smile for him
everlasting.

I'll add them
to my own
ephemeral
count

11/22/2006

Posted on 11/22/2006
Copyright © 2024 Kathleen Wilson