New Poem: At the Grave of a Loved One

Of the traditional forms, my favorite has got to be sonnets.  There is just something about them that I find captivating and inherently beautiful.  I had the idea for this poem yesterday evening and wrote it during the course of the day today.  It was inspired by the photograph below, which I took some weeks back. 

At the Grave of a Loved One

Six feet above you looking down, I came

Upon fake flowers from a nearby grave,

And being all alone and desperate gave

Them a home in the ground before your name.

The plastic petals, always in their prime,

Won’t attract the florists rumored to prospect

The graveyard at night in order to collect

The cheap inventory of a lifetime.

Neither birds nor bees will frequent these flowers

That bear not the sustenance of seeds or

Nectar, sweet and glistening at their core¹.

They yield a tasteless tea if steeped for hours.

Indeed, those that do not wilt in the sun,

These flowers, are worthless to everyone.

¹Reference to a poem by May Swenson called, Four-Word Lines.