Forget-Me-Not

During war, soldiers sent forget-me-nots to keep their love alive.

War made widows of our windows

their panes rattled at every train

that carried someone's son away.

You left with my handkerchief folded in your pocket,

and I kept the echo of your boots

a marching heartbeat down the lane.

The world grew metal-cold

Even sunlight felt rationed.

Hope was counted like sugar.

Letters came, slow as seasons,

ink smudged by trembling fingers,

each envelope a fragile promise

that you were still alive

The petals pressed against the paper

held the weight of your love

silent, unwavering,

as if the blue itself

remembered you for me.

Rumors traveled faster than mail.

Names, familiar as lullabies

listed like fallen stars

no one wished for.

When your pages stopped

the silence rang like church bells.

I realized grief is just love

with no address.

Some nights, the flowers stir

petals breathing like paper lungs.

I think they know

you were here.

I think they remember

for both of us.