Violet Memories

Mama! Violets!
Grimy hands squeeze
stems bent
from excitement.

A boy I didn't like
(when I was sixteen)
offered violets
to pin to my dress
But they wilted.

On one peculiar hillside
at the homestead
violets grew yellow
just to contradict
their name/
(All their neighbors
were amethyst).

Today
I float violets
in my wine glass.