Napowrimo 8

Today's prompt is to write a poem about a flower. I love writing about flowers, so this wasn't too tough.

My Husband Never Buys Me Flowers

I see them every Saturday, those men

Cradling a bouquet of grocery store flowers –

Usually dyed daisies, sometimes carnations,

Hydrangeas, a single rose in rouge.

It’s enough to make a gal feel jipped

Out of romance, if it’s supposed to look

Like this – a nervous man in a suit,

Standing in line, tapping his foot,

As I empty my shopping cart

Behind him in line, as he pays

For the flowers, disappears into the night.

This is the image of what love is supposed to be –

Men on white horses

Men charming

Men buying flowers

Men in clean pressed suits

Men coming in to save the day

My husband, at home, slumbers on the couch

After a long day of work in the garden,

Trimming back the chaos of the oak

Whose shade was suffocating my marigolds.

His hands bloom with blisters

Like the rouge petals of a rose.