I take the flowers out of the makeshift vase 
the Appalachian in me will always have a mason jar fit for any ocasion 
this one now sits wide mouthed and empty 
what’s left of the bouquet is wilted and dead in my hands
I can’t remember what they were for 
my birthday, maybe a plea of forgiveness, a I loving reminder
Now forgotten and shriveled like the petals that crunch and fall away with each movement 
a squeeze, a sway, a quick toss
there they lay 
back to the earth they were plucked from 
Humans making amends by destruction 
Some say it’s a beautiful gesture 
I think it’s a hideous reminder