The flowers sent here by mistake, <br />signed with a name that no one knew, <br />are turning bad. What shall we do? <br />Our neighbor says they're not for her, <br />and no one has a birthday near. <br />We should thank someone for the blunder. <br />Is one of us having an affair? <br />At first we laugh, and then we wonder. <br /> <br />The iris was the first to die, <br />enshrouded in its sickly-sweet <br />and lingering perfume. The roses <br />fell one petal at a time, <br />and now the ferns are turning dry. <br />The room smells like a funeral, <br />but there they sit, too much at home, <br />accusing us of some small crime, <br />like love forgotten, and we can't <br />throw out a gift we've never owned.<br /><br />Dana Gioia<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thanks-for-remembering-us/
