There were flowers at the hospital the Day you were born, There were flowers the day we met I remember when you were blue, the air Hadn’t mixed with your blood yet, and You cried.
You lifted your head, before anyone expected strength Of you, winding your neck like a clock Whose parts quiver, unsteady, untimely, Until you stopped And you saw Baby’s Breath with cerulean eyes.
You would see flowers on your first day of school Tulips you’d give on Mother’s Day Roses on Valentine’s Day You would see flowers at weddings Probably at your own wedding Someday. And the Iris would guide your funeral, too.
I’d look at you, and think of the flowers you’d see, they are The milestones of your life, Marked by petals, stems, and thorns.