daisies and peonies
They called in
broken sentences with urgent tones.
His breaths were not his own,
and his body stiff,
fastened to the hospital bed.
The breathing tube uncomfortably rests
on his unshaven face,
lining down his chest that rises
and falls with every
anxious thought in the room.
My grandma received flowers at her doorstep
Crisp white daisies and peonies with soft pink hues
wrapped in brown paper,
Meticulously and gently
tied at the bottom with ribbon
so all of their delicate petals hold
She sent me her gratitude
“Your grandpa will see you marry your husband.
He will walk you down the aisle”
She affirms the words with
shaky breaths and hurried, reassuring nods
As if she’s negotiating with God himself
I nod my head listless
As silent shudders radiate from my chest like butterflies
I never sent her flowers