I want you to see the yellow wild flowers
the way I’ve started to see them.
They stretch upward toward open skies,
endlessly reaching as these autumn days grow cooler
and summer days fall into crisp evenings.
I no longer want them to reach out toward you,
their roots grabbing on to your breath,
their very appearance a calendar of your grief.
These yellow flowers are here to remind us
of the light that she was,
the reach she had
and the smile that-
like the flowers-
could light up an evening
as it grew dark and cool.