It wasn’t long enough before the ground began to thaw, before her garden woke
with sweeping waves of clover, the baroque light gilding soft green buds, and all around,
wind lifting the early leaves, slow as a snake curls on a sunlit rock. ………………………………….It might have seemed
miraculous—a ravaged world redeemed, the clouds reflected on a sparkling lake—
except she left last fall, and he didn’t care to kneel beside the bed, to coax and plant,
so wildflowers rambled through the weeds— but still, her roses bloomed ………………………………….without her there,
white petals tight as shrouds. He didn’t want this beauty she left behind, ………………………………….these tedious needs.