Removing the drooping stems of baby's breath from the vase in my living room, reminded me of lines from a Jane Hirsfield poem
Stay, I saidThese were the last survivors from a bouquet Y received a few weeks ago and I did want the moment of joy and celebration to stay. The flowers did the best they could, held strong for longer than I thought they would. But that morning it was finally time to go. Throwing away cut flowers be more than a mundane act of housekeeping sometimes.
to the cut flowers.
They bowed
their heads lower.
Comments