She did not cry perhaps that was the odd thing.
I saw the two soldiers at her front door
one with a chaplain’s uniform
Her son was on active duty I knew at once
what the bad news would be.

I remember It was late springtime
and all through the days that year
I could see her working nonstop in her garden.
Trimming transplanting weeding.
until the evening light faded always working
in her gardens.

I have never seen such an abundance of beauty
Flowers and shrubs everywhere.
a complete carpet of fragrant bloom
The snipping of her pruning shears never ceasing
like a cicada in August.

Beautiful Lantern shaped
blossoms hung down
from the flowering trees
like the tears
she could not cry.