On the windowsill
above the stuffed beige chair
the clustered flowers seem to spring
from their glass vase
as if alive
a rich array of vibrant colors
pinks and purples
whites and yellows
and the globe thistle's pale grey
all so lovingly arranged
by my dear wife
that though she's sleeping
in our bed upstairs
her presence here beside me
in this room
is as real to me
as anything I've known