by Richard Dinges
A blur in peripheralvision, a flutterI barely noticedbetween kitchencounter and window,turned my headto see a wiltedgladiola lyingin desiccated faint,a brief spatterof pale pink ongray granite, abit of beautysucked dry bysummer beforeI even noticedthe vase of flowersshe had placedbeside me.
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