Outside my window
I smiled as I pointed the irises out to my son on our way to the bus stop.
“There must be over 100.” I told him. “My grandmother got the rootstock from grandpa’s aunt, the rootstock of those irises are over 100 years old!”
“Flowers can live that long?” he said.
I explained how the rootstock of a iris grow and multiplies, much like people or animals.
I told him their names: Portwine, Lilac Bush, Sunshine. I looked at him, how life goes on, if we are lucky. I thought of how fragile we are, how that one plant living a hundred years ago meant that 100 plants were living today.