Monday, September 21, 2009

The Last Rose

horse's breath rises
to a colder sun
before me
sweetgum leaves
ripen deep plum
rub a thickening blue
in its branches
chickadees cheer me
cheer my little day

I am out and about
doing what may
or may not
matter
looking for more
wanting something

find it before a white window
the last rose of summer 
cradling its skin in old hands
it is the deepest of reds
deeper sadness
an older sun sinking
behind a line of ever nearer trees





JP
9.21.09

No comments:

Post a Comment