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| Jean-Daniel Francoeur |
A Season For Living
I’d always loved flowers.
You helped me
surround myself with them
to bring me joy.
I would like to lie in my garden
in the mist of the soft sweet-smelling mist
of them
forever.
But everything has it’s time,
its time to live,
and its time to die
and only the flowers
will bloom eternally
each in its season.
This is my season for living
and it’s now that I need them.
When I’m dead I won’t see them on my grave,
won’t know that you’ve brought them for me
won’t know if you haven’t,
or care.
The flowers you carry
in that season should be for you,
for all of you that I left behind
and all of you still to come.
Don’t let them die
for me.
Nobody wants dead flowers,
least of all, dead people.
First published in OPA, April 2024
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| Lynn White |
Lynn White lives in North Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice, as well as events, places, and people she has known or imagined. She has been nominated for Pushcarts, Best of the Net, and a Rhysling Award. https://lynnwhitepoetry.
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