and a rose

June 24, 2011


I had to return to the cemetery today. Had to leave my own mark upon the grave I had not yet made my peace with. So I went with a single rose from Oma’s garden, the bush just going into bloom, and I placed it there. Then I remembered that I had also meant to water the potted blooms my cousin had left, noticing the soil was dry yesterday. But it wasn’t where it sat yesterday. I looked around and was so very glad that I had, for it lay on its side, far from its home, next to a rubbish bin. But now it sits back where it belongs, freshly watered . . . beside a rose.

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