A Cheery Memory

It was a cheery little smile

To brighten up the day,
But it was just what I needed
As I passed on my way.
 
A moment and a memory
Of a day that’s now past.
The hand that planted them is gone,
But his blossoms still last.
 
They seem a fragile link to him
And yet they’re blooming still
As if in reflection of him
And his enduring will.
 
Each time I pass them in their bed
I see his face once more,
I hear him tell me gardening
Is his joy, not a chore.