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Do lilies grow in the middle of the night
In the plaster moonlight thrown on dirt?
Or do they find the red and blue grass
Of the shady park so sharp it hurts?

White strappy sandals with flower patterns
With crease marks like your grandma’s eyes.
She left long ago, you saw it coming,
But somehow it was still a surprise.

Sticky candy on the lawn at dusk,
Half drizzle and half heavy musk.
They tried for grass but went with brick
Because all that grew just turned to dust.

You sit in laps on that green floral couch
That was never soft, but it was yours.
They threw it out later, said it was ugly
And found they just didn’t need it anymore.

And you still remember the entryway
With the wreath on Harvard Street stone steps
And the subdued but heavy sophisticated smell,
Same when you smiled as when you wept.

And it’s all gone now, and it’s not coming back,
And they tell you it’s the circle of life.
But you still wear the diamond ring on your hand
That you loved in the glow of the dining room light.