My grandmother taught me to love wildflowers

by Jude Okonkwo

My grandmother taught me to love wildflowers

to cut each unruly stem from the soil

taming the buds with cool water and mirror glass

before setting them out on the counter to watch us

I used to point out the naughty roses to her

when they would dip their small heads down

in a game of awful peek-a-boo

before she would lift them by the chin again

Each month, the flowers dried out all too soon

their leafy fingers curling into ashes

their tired heads sagging on the edge of glass

begging to be left alone

My grandmother taught me to bury my roses

to slide the withered bodies out from the vase

I used to caress the soil, calling the lost buds by name

before placing them vertically in the grave