Little Yellow Rose

We lay you down,

To cross that river;

The one you spoke of

On humid Alabama nights.

Did we think you would leave so soon,

To leave nothing behind you

But memories

And the faintest smell of dried yellow roses?

We lay you down,

Next to the man

Who crossed the river

The same day as you,

The man who took your hand

And said I do.

But did I ever think

You would leave me so soon,

So many words left unspoken?

The dried yellow rose

Reminds me of the summers

Of my wild youth.

Safety and comfort in familiarity;

The books you would hand me,

To fulfill the need of words

When my spoken words

Could only fail me.

This little yellow rose,

Pressed and dried,

Is all I have left

Because you crossed that river,

And left me here.

It is all I have left of you

Besides the memories-

A little yellow rose.