Plans

When I bury you, I told her,

I will put you in a bed
atop the chopped off heads of
sunflowers—your favorite.

Thank you, she said.

What will you do? I said.

Well, I hope you don’t mind…she said, but I may take a few liberties.

Not at all…

Then I would buy you a new shirt.
Crisp. And put a fly in the breast pocket
or some other such secret between us.

It’s fine, I said. I like it. And what flowers?

White, she said. Goddamn it.
For you? White.

And I said goddamn it too
because that was going to happen some day.