Plot

Julia Sull

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It’s hard to think of something brand new.
It’s hard to think of prolific birds.
It’s hard to think of a popular springtime holiday.
It’s hard to think of a photo of a bouquet.
It’s hard to think I can say it when I’m saying the whole thing.
It’s hard to think of my mom
my mom’s mother
the flower shop
dusting
wrapping
stems and wire
florist’s tape
pinning corsages
boutonnières
arranging bouquets
my grandma’s roses
my mom remembering my grandma’s roses
my mom remembering her memories.
It’s hard to think of my mom thinking it’s hard to think of something brand new.
It’s hard to think she thought this should be a book someday.