Pressed Flowers, Jessica Lattanzi ‘23

I place your pressed flowers Under my pillow So the memories they froze Might visit my dreams. I hold your pressed flowers Close to my chest So their last drops of strength Will coat my fears in gold. I weave your pressed flowers Into my hair So they can remind me of my beauty When I fail to see it. I beg your pressed flowers For one last instruction; How to learn To go on Without you.

Jessica Lattanzi ‘23