Jacob brings me weeds-

By Merrijane Rice

Jacob brings me weeds—
flowers, he says—
sheltered in cupped hands
like snowflakes on death’s edge:

white bindweed trumpets, bright
as thoughts popping,
winding vines that cling
like anxious fingers twisted
through mine—

yellow dandelion puffs, dusty
as mote-filled sunbeams,
heavy tops that bob
like drowsy heads dipped
nose-first into dreams—

purple henbit pixels, scattered
as random patches of forgotten fury,
scarlet buds that blush
like hot cheeks rashed
with frustration.

Too limp to prop in porcelain vase,
too small to float in crystal bowl,
I tuck these treasures into memory’s tissue,
press them under leaves of leaden time
to fill empty space—

between now and when
he brings me other things
I don’t know how to save.


About Merrijane Rice

Merrijane Rice received a BA in English from Brigham Young University, and then served in the Washington D.C. North Mission. After returning, she married Jason Rice and together they are raising a family of four boys in Kaysville, Utah. She currently works for Deseret Mutual Benefit Administrators as a technical writer and editor. In her spare time, she likes to write, sing, arrange music, cook, read, and occasionally sew.

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