I

Three in the afternoon
should never be too late to visit the dead,

but during the pandemic the cemetery hours
were shortened like a lot of lives.

Tardy, I crawled under
the bottom of the broken chain link fence.

Dandelion sprouts
and moss admonished my hands and knees.

On the anniversary of my mother's death,
I made that deep bow to her.

                          II

A bouquet could be quiet
or loud.

For the dead:
San Obispo live forever,

everlasting daisy,
or forget-me-not.

For the living:
weeping fern, bleeding heart,

three sprigs of bee balm,
loose strife.