Saturday, October 20, 2012

Friday Rose

a young man gave me a rose (on Friday)
after the laughingest time I'd had with him
it's going to die, anyway he muttered (as an excuse,
as an introduction) to the rose
everything dies was my consolation in exchange
it's the best flower I've ever been given
made sweet not by scent but by
lack of expectation, 
lack of anticipation,
the goodness-just-for-goodness that was
his motivation
I perched it in a teacup in the windowsill at home

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