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I Bring You Flowers
I bring you flowers,
all
that’s left for me to do for you.
I
long to do those little things
I
used to do,
not
because you asked, but because
I
needed to.
Every
morning, as you
dressed
for work, I would
bring
you coffee
in
your favorite mug --
do
you remember, Love?
This
old chipped thing, I would say,
and
you would laugh and say teasingly,
I
love old things.
Then
you would give me a kiss
and
my day would begin,
cheerful
and bright,
like
a multi-rainbowed prism,
reflecting
the essence of you.
Now
my days reflect only shadows,
and
nowhere is the sun.
I
wish you were here.
I
bring you roses,
the
color of my bleeding heart.
~Copyright
© 1998 Ruth Gillis~
Previously
published in the Summer 1998 issue of
Candlelight
Poetry Journal
*2002 Poet Laureate winner
- Poets At Work*
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