White Rose


A winter white rose

Lingers brazen.

As if she dares the pending snow

to steal her royal garb.

Ringed with velvet petals

Her heart is crazy bold.

As if she holds off passing time

She chafes against the cold.

Frailer blooms have bowed their heads.

Surrendered bloom

To dark and murderous winter’s doom.

The season’s taken many things

It’s chill-expected toll.

Her fragrance wanes.

Her spine now curves in weakened pain.

With dignity she wakes each morn

Single tear-petals drip past thorns

On their journey to the ground.

One winter white rose

lingers proud.

Know’s not her season to expire.

Wakes each morn with lovely valor.

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9 thoughts on “White Rose

    1. I journaled a little after I wrote this and discovered that I was imagining my grandma. My grandfather passed earlier this year, and I have watched her grow and change and grieve and love through pain.
      I’m surprised you could tell, but honored! You’re a very interpretive reader! I enjoy your work.

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