You must be a Very Good Child the florist at the grocery store pronounces to the man standing before her buying flowers for his mother On Valentine’s Day all the customers clutch roses as they shop It is as if there is a wedding somewhere in here and we are all in it but skipped rehearsal so we don’t know where to stand Red and pink foil balloons sway and spin under the AC’s breeze Is this enough baby’s breath the florist asks That’s perfect the customer says but I think she could go on adding more fleshing out this armful of blooms with soapsud with froth with gathered frost In fact I want a dozen bouquets composed solely of baby’s breath Tiny bits of snow at the tips of the skinny green strands A constellation of condensation collected from the exhalations of infants and toddlers and children and tweens and all their future progeny Generations of babies and growing humans safely securely breathing in and out Sighing Yawning Propelling responses across the yard to the listener at the back door announcing Time to come back inside If we saw flowers in the currency of time these blooms would be seconds and carnations minutes and tulips half hours and roses hours I have rediscovered a love for filler flowers fresh or flattened Please fill an entire cart with them and sail it back toward me The wheels whirring an ode to the exalted ordinary I am trying so hard not to let this poem end in death for once So here goes nothing Today may you show a picture of a heart to those you adore as paltry proof May you adorn your hair with pink and ribbons May your flowers taste rain as you rush to the car and as they dream their way into the big dark they were born to become may they not be alone May they carry with them the memory of light
Hannah Stephenson is a poet and editor living in Northern Virginia. She is the author of Cadence and In the Kettle, the Shriek. Her writing has appeared in The Atlantic, The Huffington Post, 32 Poems, Vela, The Journal, and Poetry Daily. You can visit her online at The Storialist.
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