The happiest smile, in the happiest garden.

The happiest garden, small and square,

trees towering over the black fence,

the radiant sun raining on 

the bulging pink flowers.

Where he used to read the newspaper,

where he used to drink his favorite tea,

every morning listening to the birds,

every afternoon quiet like his plants,

Calm, just like his garden. 

He sat on his favorite off-white chair,

wobbling on the floral-patterned floor,

and held me tight on his lap.

My grandmother by his side,

my grandfather looked at the camera.

A smile so vivid, so vibrant, so colorful

as if he just heard the funniest joke,

like the only thing that mattered was

this picture, this moment, this smile.

Colorful, just like his garden. 

With as much love as he gave his flowers,

with as much love as he gave me,

wearing an old watch in front of an old house,

in the winter of 2014,

we watched his flowers fall off the tree peacefully.

Just like his garden, he was peaceful,

when he passed in 2022.