Flowers
A Poem Composed by Ryan Quinn Flanagan
The flowers were for the funeral.
Someone died and the living brought
all that life to honour the dead.
Dressed in black like a failed crayon box,
but the flowers were there to make
everything right.
I watered mine the night before.
Like Bedouin camel hump days
around a failing mirage.
Stood over the casket
with folded sweaty pulsing
gargantuan hands.
Surrounded by all that colour,
those flowers.
Bio of the Poet: Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many mounds of snow. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, Himalaya Diary, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Red Fez, and The Oklahoma Review. He enjoys listening to the blues and cruising down the TransCanada in his big blacked out truck.