"Ages of a Day," or 5 Years

I'd just returned from FL earlier in the day yesterday, but I still managed to do this, as I have every year since she died on her birthday.  I released them with tears and prayers from the Common Book of Prayer while on the roof of my new building.  

On Valentine's Day in 1995, my dad gave my mom a book of poetry by Robert Frost and cited specifically this poem:

Flower Gathering by Robert Frost

I left you in the morning,And in the morning glow,You walked a way beside meTo make me sad to go.Do you know me in the gloaming,Gaunt and dusty grey with roaming?Are you dumb because you know me not,Or dumb because you know? 

All for me? And not a questionFor the faded flowers gayThat could take me from beside youFor the ages of a day?They are yours, and be the measureOf their worth for you to treasure,The measure of the little whileThat Ive been long away.