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South Fork Poetry: ‘A Season of Roses’

Thu, 10/21/2021 - 08:08

The lush pink Damask
asleep in dense-packed petals
awakens with sweet perfume
waltzing the senses.

The yellow Climber
pirouettes up the trellis
trailing an umbilical cord
tethered to Mother Earth.

The blood-red Rambler
spurts dark carmine
spills over the split rail fence
leaps over its own thorns.

A brief dance
this season of Roses:
Come June, they bloom.
By July, they die.
A resurrection in September:
They reach for the failing light
swinging their hips.


Monica Enders lives in East Hampton.
 


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