An Empty Vase's New Purpose

Some Sundays are more sensitive than others

While Saturdays are teeming with noise

Sundays are hidden in pure white bedding.

Some rays of the Sun manage to infiltrate

So hazel eyes are no longer dreamy

Outside, the noise of people

Heading to the market

To buy beautiful yellow tulips for

Moms,

Grandmas,

Sisters.

The vase next to the bed has been empty for

Such a long time

So as not to lose purpose,

It is filled with glitter sticks

But neither light nor yellow tulips

Cannot replace a soul

No wonder they say

“Death is when you haven’t seen someone

For a long time”.

Since then,

The yellow tulips are missing

The bedding is empty and quite

And

Every Sunday feels a little heavier.