Click to enlarge.

These are my namesake
flowers—you planted the seeds
before I arrived, dreaming
of deep purple blossoms, yellow
or gold petals, tall green stems.
And then, giant zinnias grew and opened,
flowers large as a cat's face,
magenta and pale pink and bright orange
with amber centers—all the colours
you dreamed of, like an artist's palette,
bursting in your heart.
They blossomed from July
until the first frost in October
when, overnight, the colours drained
from the blooms, dead on their stalks.
This year, you filled the house
with vase after vase of flowers,
each zinnia an offering
especially for me, to make
me feel welcome, the one you say brings
colour, light, laughter to your life.
You make me feel this way,
a bride with an armful of cut
flowers, grown and picked
by you to say "love, love."

Copyright by Carolyn Zonailo: www.carolynzonailo.com, 2004