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Iris of my eye, looking at her so beautiful and sweet. Iris – the flowers that were in the hospital room the day she was born. Iris the color of the blanket she was first swaddled in. The color of her 8th grade graduation dress. Iris of his eye, looking at her with grace. Iris - the flowers he bought her on their first date. The flowers she held walking down the aisle on her wedding day. The flowers I brought her when her first daughter was born. Iris the color of the blanket my first granddaughter was swaddled in. Iris - the texture of my soft skin as both generations looked down at me. Iris – the flower placed upon a rock that read my life all in one saying.


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