Thanks For Remembering Us

The flowers sent here by mistake,
signed with a name that no one knew,
are turning bad. What shall we do?
Our neighbor says they're not for her,
and no one has a birthday near.
We should thank someone for the blunder.
Is one of us having an affair?
At first we laugh, and then we wonder.

The iris was the first to die,
enshrouded in its sickly-sweet
and lingering perfume. The roses
fell one petal at a time,
and now the ferns are turning dry.
The room smells like a funeral,
but there they sit, too much at home,
accusing us of some small crime,
like love forgotten, and we can't
throw out a gift we've never owned.

by Dana Gioia

Other poems of GIOIA (21)

Comments (9)

Nicely done. Triggers the imagination, and it's probably happened more than once!
Marvelous. So different is the look to look at the happening of nature and universe. It is perhaps the quality to go beyond time. We all actually searching such new look towards life and object. Unique indeed and obviously universal. Good post by PH.
no end to mysteries, Dana
Cant say who sent the flowers but a beautiful drop.liked it.
How sweet, these would be a lovely weekly surprise. thank you Dana. May this surprise come again
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