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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required (continued from Where do the Flowers go in Winter Part One) We buried her today In early March Winter is almost over The ground is hard So was my heart Everyone dressed in black Black Why Black? I wanted to wear Well Orange Yes Orange When I was eleven I got a part in the school play "Mom! Mom! I'm going to be an Orange Mom! an Orange!" I got the part I'll need you to make my costume!" "I don't have time You're in my way Go outside You really don't want to be in the play It's stupid I don't want my son to play a fruit a fruit You want to be an Orange? You're in the sixth grade Big boys don't play oranges. It's dumb Your dumb Tell Mrs. Wilson no. Tell her no..." They covered her up I placed a white rose upon her grave We went home. No dinner I was hungry But I could not bring myself to eat For all others were in grief I went into her room and sat in her chair I listen through the walls, words of sadness I hear They told loving stories of this woman How caring passionate kind she was How she was an asset to the community How well she raised her children Three fine girls and a son And a son How appropriate Just And a son, not a fine son How could he be a fine son? She's been dead for four days And not one drop of water has left his two eyes My father placed his hand on my shoulder "Son I know how hard your taking this..." "I never wanted children! Your Father did He told me he would adopt Adopt! Good God rest my soul So I consented Three girls, a boy, then you My family was complete Four children. You had a brother If he didn't die. If he was alive I wouldn't of had you (continued on Where do the Flowers go in Winter Part Three)
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