Withering Rose

“A life filled with love, must
have some thorns, but a life
empty of love will have no roses.”
– Anonymous

The withering rose
Much more intense its fragrance
After it has bloomed
Amassed in its parch’d petals
Scent of many yesterdays
Book pages betwixt
For many moons unopened
A well-preserved rose
Dry and withered still scented
Embers of a love story
An embarrassed grin
Deep crimson his freckled face
He gave her the rose
Mem’ries chiseled in his heart
Her face emblazed in his mind
Faint blush heart racing
She took the rose mumbled thanks
Then walked away fast
The rose in a vase survived
Then pressed betwixt the pages
The withering rose
Witness to a love story
That spanned a lifetime
Once ‘twas bright red beautiful
Now  a lovely memory
© Vic Evora


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