Daffodils

I remember when you planted the first bulbs

We joked that only luck would bring them out of the rocky soil
But in her heart I knew she hoped they would brighten up the cabin
Winters on the mountain were never easy
Short, cold days bled into still colder, longer nights
But comes March, and the old dreary leaves suddenly heave as the bright green pushes upwards and out of the soil.
Within days the daffodils bloom
First on the south side of the cabin
Then slowly as the sun warms the north side
She would gather a bunch to set on the table
Taking many minutes to make sure they looked just right.
I’d laugh at her earnestness
She always made our home the only place I could live.
I’d rather be with her in the daffodils than any blossoming apple orchard
Years have passed by and those bulbs spread thicker and thicker each spring
I see her tending to a special spot surrounded with a rail fence
Two mounds covered in yellow
One for a son we lost
The other mine