i.
no flowers linger
by the garden gate
after this ice-cold winter.
my gloves still lie
in the mud room
after these many months
collecting dust.
believe it or not
i still remember
the day we planted seeds
on hands and knees
and planned for a happy
future beneath
blue, cloudless skies.
ii.
most flowers wither
and fade
as seasons change,
but the wildflowers
you planted
deep in my heart
continue to bloom
year after year
despite aging parents
and two kids
in school
and all those demands
which drag my attention
away from you.
