Preservation by Nancy Huggett


I confess to keeping those first roses dead
and dried, in the closet in a box I forgot
then found again today. Never
quite purging. The romance,
fresh and red with passion,
soft with desire. Saved
and savored for some future
that shook us by the scruff,
dust and petals flung
into the heavens, stars
realigning. So many beautiful
dead things shedding light.


Nancy Huggett is a writer, caregiver, and settler descendant who lives in Ottawa, Canada on the traditional unceded territory of the Algonquin Anishinaabeg people.

8 thoughts on “Preservation by Nancy Huggett

  1. Nancy, your poem’s wistful musing on the dead rose bouquet evocatively layers the past with the present. Powerful, the way it moved me.

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