The Rose

In my psychotic haze I stroll peacefully along the beach, when a oddly placed rose speaks as I pass by:

"I have a story to tell you."

"I can't, I don't have the time-- no, rather, I don't have the energy."

"No, please listen."

 

"My deep red color is the color of raw passion.

Cast gently by a the couple on a cruise ship.  A couple whose eyes sparkled with chemistry for one another,

A promise washed ashore amidst kelp, sand & salt.

My pedals are still soft & passionately red, though quickly wilting, becoming no more than beach trash,

Indistinquisable from the seaweed and ocean refuse; the frigid ocean waters quelling the heat of  passion.

This is my beautiful but dying moment.

 

Please, it takes little more than a picture & prose to freeze me in the moment & immortalize the passion."