Theme: Acceptance

Over-hanging Rose


I picked a rose: I had
looked first to scan for anyone
the sight of whom would curtail the action:
the sweet green stalk seemed
to snap in the bush -- my heart jumped,        
my mind baptised in dilemma.
Even as I walked, I determined
to throw away this ill-gotten prize; but leapt
in the strength of possession, counting
this fact its own evidence of right. 
Later, I caught the smile
in my shadow - I was still running.                                     
I filled a cut-glass vase
and stood the rose in: it stands
there still, in sufficient silence.

Image © Getty Images


More By  :  R. D. Ashby

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