Flowers

Sun:
I rouse
them from their sleep
with gentle kisses. 
Their petals unfurl 
against my glare. 
I promise
to always return.
For they should never dread 
the dark. 

Boy: 
I envision
the dimples 
that will illuminate 
her cheeks 
when the whiff
of summer infuses 
her senses.
Dainty buds
always blossom
with time. 

Husband:
When she sniffs
the sweet fragrance 
will the years of forgetting 
and empty silence
become a distant 
blur?
Can it buy
us back our youth 
and erase
the fine lines creased
across our brows?
Will it stand
as a remembrance 
that life requires
more than sunlight 
and water 
to really consider 
one alive? 
​