In the road
a broken rose
picked probably
yesterday, forgotten
A deep rich color
of blood red, burgundy
lying there, discarded
out of place
Bending down, required
cupping the petals
the crushed bloom
still beautiful
Limp petals, cupped in my hand
bending, folding, swaying
in the breath of the wind
like a shear silk
a softness to my skin
Putting the rose gently
in a glass of water
floating now, effortlessly
as if it was gossamer
or made of paper
Edited April 24, 2013
“Blood Red Burgundy – v2”
June 8, 2010
“Blood Red Burgundy”;
All
of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004,
2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013. All rights reserved.
Contact me at Ray
Foss for usage. See all 23,110+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
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