The last roses. : Sad Poetry

The last roses

Writing poetry and growing roses-

Is, much the same thing-

We plant in soil, and hope they grow.

Taking pictures and poetry

Is, much the same thing

We shoot the camera, then we download, we edit.

Working and working to get the picture right.

With each rose bloom and picture of it,

we admire the same things.

Immortalizing roses in pictures-

And in verses.

Once the picture is taken, there isn’t a magic

Machine that can make a photo more clear-

There isn’t any magic that can remove a bruise from a rose

If it is formed on it .

There are no perfect poems.

They can edited a thousand times

To say a thousand different things.

There is never a last rose-

but the one on a casket.

And there isn’t an everlasting rose.

The casket was on poetry before I started writing it

And the rose was on my casket before I wrote a poem.

Bringing in the last blooms before the freeze.

Cutting and pruning the last roses.

Sitting out the last roses in fall,

in cool clean water- buds in vases.

Praying they will bloom.

to salvage our last blooms before winter.

Yes,

poetry and roses are much the same thing.

Always patiently awaiting

warmth,

growth and spring.

re-birth, and love

of our rose garden and our poetry.

To find - it is too cold to grow

roses now and

these are the last roses.

Editing their pictures in winter.

Praying these are never the last roses.

12-21-08

thank you 4 no comments on my roses.