white writers write about flowers
limited by brightly colored metaphors
easy descriptions
simplicity and safety
takes less to swallow and sell
than we budgeted for
best to stick with what we know
lilies and orchids and baby’s breath
the flower shop on the corner
in downtown Albuquerque
my roller blades at the front door
while I’m organizing stacks of cards
Georgia’s hands soft and calculated
curling ribbon with the edge of a blade
removing thorns from long stemmed roses
a balance of violence and grace
her husband passed suddenly
unpreventable – a hole in his heart
I was always impressed
by how her heart remained so whole
we had met when she let me make a bouquet
and trusted that I’d return later to pay for it
I came back every day for the scent
and the safety of that cool damp room
the one that preserved
kept crisp and fresh
petals pressed open frozen lightly dewed
I wanted to be the same
never left to wilt or shrivel forgotten
on a hot dashboard
to dry out in a waterless vase
for the balance of violence and grace
Georgia, I am still grateful
This is so evocative. ‘The balance of violence and grace’ – beautiful ❤️️
Wow. Love this so much! One of my favourites for sure. Takes me back to florist shop days, stripping thorns off long-stemmed roses. ‘The balance of violence and grace’ and the ‘safety of that cool damp room’… so good!