You’re missing it….missing me.
We don’t have much time together, and I know how you love me so.
I bloomed for the family before you, and the family before them,
through the riots of ’68 to last week, I have done my work and risen to the light
I am old now.
I hear you talking about the “dead parts of me” , my future uncertain.
In spite of it all, I bloomed extra beautiful this year…
for the dead parts in you.
I am climbing up your steps, blocking your mailbox
Finally, today, you saw me.