I Bring You Flowers

I bring you flowers,
all thatís 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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