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ROSE

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ROSE

 

My love is like

a crimson rose

and no one knows

from whence it came

 

nor where it goes -

a rose in winter

solid as Frankenstein's

monster, a frozen thing

 

that spent

its lifetime hiding

like a garage spider.

I didn't chide her

 

the garage spider,

but now the rose has

said hooray - come out

to play, has seen

 

its own reflection

in the mirror, yes

the sudden mirror

of your eyes.

 

From Composting for All (2017)

 

 

◄ THE DOGS OF ATHENS

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Comments

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john short

Fri 2nd Nov 2018 22:26

Thanks Ray and Taylor for your appreciative comments.

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raypool

Fri 2nd Nov 2018 22:15

Very affecting because it intrigues me into a state of curiosity satisfied, John. A lovely piece of turned writing with a dash of wit too. Always a pleasure.

Ray

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Taylor Crowshaw

Fri 2nd Nov 2018 22:14

Love the last stanza..?

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