“He gave me flowers he’d found and bought While shopping at the farmers’ mart Two years ago they slowly died Still stand in waterless vase, dried”— a somber poem of dried flowers, the best she can muster a goddess with a bouquet of dried blooms some daisies are everlasting... given from the heart A plain girl with flowers she tried to toss that tossed her back and she said, "I'll try again" but again never comes She glances every day and says, "I'll deal with you tomorrow when fresh roses arrive at my door, or wild lupine perhaps, he picks along the way and keeps waiting... too much of an effort for him... then a drawing of flowers, because he's broke or a string of ascii characters he says are flowers She has some flowers from two years ago, dried and still standing in her room the best currently available