Bouquet

The bouquet of roses on the table
Carry with them the sweet smell
Of our past lives, mistakes together

They were cut with utmost precision
Bound together with string
And placed in a glass vase

To live out their natural life
And when they said
“Till death do us part”

Little did I know that death
Would come in April
When our love was still blossoming

I waited for you at the hotel
With a fresh bouquet of flowers
I purchased from a street vendor

But you never came
So I poured a shot of whiskey
And stared out the window
Into the rain wondering what god
Did to my yellow haired angel



* * * * *

Ryan Sagert is a poet from Lorain, Ohio. He has been published in the North Coast Review and Word Salad. He studied poetry under Bruce Weigl at LCCC, worked as an extra in The Avengers, and had a small part in Freedom’s Light: A Stop Along the Underground Railroad.

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