bud on a rose
silhouetted against
today
and the telegraph
pole
bud on a rose
time with quicklime
fingers
will not pluck you
nor brave your loyal
thorns
in our planned city
bud on a rose
none will touch your
leaves that loll
silent tongues
in mild suburban
breeze
in a green
metropolis
bud on a rose
in indirect sun,
strong lanky real
estate,
city farm of aphids,
skyscraper of ants
bud on a rose
you will bloom again
pink or
haloumi-white
this spring
joining every other
bud
each coiled, lonely
heart of a bud
in the urban
hemisphere.
This is very fine. I particularly like the way it builds and then coils up, waiting for a heart to claim it.
ReplyDeletethanks Rob, it was sparked off by looking at a rangy old rose bush growing outside my bedroom window
ReplyDelete