good year for the roses.

The thought occurred to me,
as I sat by the bushes we planted,
on the curb where your truck should be,
how heavy the aftermath of silence.

The thought occurred to me,
while lighting your cigarette stub,
which I plucked from the yard,
like so many of the weeds.

The thought occurred to me,
as for the first time since I met you,
I actually missed the smell of smoke and,
it’s been a good year for the roses.

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2 thoughts on “good year for the roses.

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