The Auburn Rose

I came across an Auburn Rose

A fire fractured by the soft morning light

but burning still

as lovers might.

It had interlaced it’s fingers around those

less fortunate.

Brown and crinkled they cracked and fell.

But she

this Auburn Rose

only looked on death as a last lover

Panting

Pulsing

and biting back at the frost with both her blushing cheeks.

At the time winter came

she groaned unabashed

satisfied

with her fill of earth and sun

and soak of sky.

I wept

not for her

but that I might have been an

Auburn Rose.

 

 

 

 

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