by Sydney Solis
You picked me
because I was the beautiful rose
gracious, red,
tender-skinned,
slender-stemmed
daintily clothed
by silken fragrant petals.
My petals were sealed then,
hiding me like the bulb in winter.
Alas, when I emerge,
only then will you find me.
When you woo me home and display me in your vase,
the concealing petals will fall like tears,
unmasking my deepest self you never saw amid the dozens of others I was competing with in the garden.
And when my bloom has failed
and can no longer be worn near your heart,
I will trust it was not I you loved,
but my blossoms made of earth.
1985
You picked me
because I was the beautiful rose
gracious, red,
tender-skinned,
slender-stemmed
daintily clothed
by silken fragrant petals.
My petals were sealed then,
hiding me like the bulb in winter.
Alas, when I emerge,
only then will you find me.
When you woo me home and display me in your vase,
the concealing petals will fall like tears,
unmasking my deepest self you never saw amid the dozens of others I was competing with in the garden.
And when my bloom has failed
and can no longer be worn near your heart,
I will trust it was not I you loved,
but my blossoms made of earth.
1985
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