Something So Lovely

You loved your garden.
You were always so proud
of the flowers that bloomed.
So much so you would pick one
to show me then put it in
a small vase on the kitchen table
then remark for days
how beautiful your flower was
and how extraordinary it was
that something so lovely
could grow from the ground
because of your love and care.
You were so patient with them,
then so happy when they’d bloom.
You called me over while kneeling
on the hill to marvel at the
colors or growth of a plant
that wasn’t doing so well
the day before. You asked me
to help you stand. I don’t move
around like I used to, you said.
I laughed, I’m impressed 
you’re able to move around 
like this at 85.
Every time I photograph
a flower, I think of you.