May 25, 2020
The petals pool around the blue vase
Set between the candle sticks that we lit every night
For dinner
All those years
And my fingers brush the softness
Reminded of Swan Lake and the
Light I saw reflected in your eyes
That first night at the ballet
So much a part of my childhood
So much not a part of yours
And reminded too of standing with you
In Sissinghurst Gardens in early spring
its White Room empty and quiet
No white roses climbing, no flowers blooming
And saying, “It is too bad we won’t see this”
And you saying “We will come back”
And we did.