Flowers Past

Your smile, your laughter,
your gentle presence,
captured in a tiny package.
Softly you sat across the room.
“Endless questions I have for you.”
We hesitatingly used to say to one another.
After the awkward silence,
broken by those simple words,
for a moment we’d silently ponder.
Then without spoken words,
we’d pose the question to ourselves.
“Should we ask them of each other today?”
Answers all in good time we thought to ourselves.
So we’d defer our questions for another day,
when we weren’t so busy with nothing to do.
And now I sit with questions aplenty,
and no one across the room to answer.