[My Rosy Red Summer]
Crisp cool water streams from green gardened hoses
Iridescent smiles appear amidst the pink placid roses
I pick and I pluck and I reach for the life
Removing the roots with a spare pocket knife
Pulling and brushing, I place them in water
Aligned in a vase, I perpetually father
Curiously lifted to dry, rusted petals
sour aroma emitted from malleable metals
No comments:
Post a Comment