Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Untitled VIII

When red rose petals
Fallen and dried
Depart from their stalks
Leaving only thorns;

and

Daisy white petals
Singed of age
Become fallen bodies
Headless cadavers;

What becomes of their departed petals?

Should I cover the evidence?
Allow the wind to blow their ashes away?
Mourn over seasons passing?

When all I have left are thorns and
Dried stalks,
Will you love me?
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8 comments:

  1. LarryGMay 13, 2009 at 4:24 PM

    does the moon ache each night to reflect the light of the sun?

    ReplyDelete
  2. AnonymousMay 13, 2009 at 4:54 PM

    Suz - a lovely poem, the thorn is of course as much a part of the rose as the petal. . . and as you note, a lot longer lasting.

    ReplyDelete
  3. TraciMay 13, 2009 at 7:06 PM

    That's beautiful! :-)

    ReplyDelete
  4. ShadowMay 14, 2009 at 4:43 AM

    so poignant... and you can't have a rose without a thorn

    ReplyDelete
  5. AnonymousMay 14, 2009 at 1:01 PM

    I loved this....

    ReplyDelete
  6. MartyMay 14, 2009 at 11:38 PM

    I love this poem... I finally got around to posting my awards - stop by my blog when you can...

    ReplyDelete
  7. Wait. What?May 15, 2009 at 2:17 PM

    i will. I do. Keep writing! you do is so well!

    ReplyDelete
  8. DishiliciousJuly 26, 2009 at 3:25 AM

    very nice! i like this very much!

    ReplyDelete

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