Blooming
they can't be contained
never thought they would
unleashed
revolting from dormancy
no one can stop them
no one can contain them
they bleed on a green backdrop
no matter that I see them behind black iron bars
that's just a fence
with a gate for me
but for these buds
they will grow through if they so desire
perhaps even clinging and wrapping
becoming one
1 comment:
I love it. Pretty cool to see this the week of Grandma Johnson's 95th birthday since she brought roses into our family.I just walked outside to look at my six bushes that have been carefully pruned and fed. Spring comes later here and they've got good healthy growth, but it does make me wonder if letting them run wild might bring the blooms sooner. There's a metaphor in there somewhere for all of us.
Love from your "sa soeur,"
Allie
Post a Comment