separate the petals from the cobwebs on the floor,
and grow roses from the life that remains;
but if their lullabyes have faded,
leave them be
to eat the sunshine
crawling through the cracks in your window-
***** with handprints of laughing children
“they don’t come around anymore”-
maybe,
the petals could grow stems of longing,
growing orchids
in your field of ashes.