At first, I didn't quite understand. How you could call that darkened room nostalgia, as though naming something isn't a kind of violence. Now the door groans on its hinges. The trellis has fallen into disrepair. Around us, the trees have cracked straight through with a strange longing. I suppose you never said tending the annuals would be easy.
One by one, I try to forget what the various flora are called. Confession: I don't really enjoy gardening. I've never kept a single flower alive.