Flowers look Sublime

//flowers look sublime

Through the window I see
pink blossoms powdering gray slate.
I must bring some outside in.
I reach for a milky blue vase,
spray dust off with a blast
of water, leave it filled
like a christening font for flowers.

Walking gingerly on ground
mined by gophers,
I breathe in the scent
of freshly-watered yard.
I look for you.

Deep pink and white geraniums,
Martha Washingtons,
with apple-green thick firm stems
and patterned leaves...
geraniums like vivid pomegranite
double butterflies...a single cloud-pink
fragrant rose...papery raspberry
bougainvillea...
everything pickable
a variation of red.

You look uo from weeding
beside the holly tree.
You smile at me.
You look so healthy.
I breathe a silent prayer for you.
I smell the artichokes burning.

You say the flowers,
arranged,
are like a painting.
I pull burnt
petals from the artichokes.
You say they’re fine.