…from all the flowers you ever planted in the ground.
This one refuses to die, clinging to particles of dirt
from all the places we travelled together; North Carolina, Pennsylvania,
Maryland, back to the mountains of North Carolina, and now, she sits,
tenacious and gnarled, upright in a little pot mingled with dirt from Virginia.
When you return, I expect you plant, one more time, one rose, in a place we call home.