Little rose

A rose I grafted is throwing it's first flower buds in autumn

Bud swells as first steps echoing in my emptiness
Who knew the seasons' encouraging senescence
Would encourage in you flower instead
The will-be fruit, stand proud yet graceful
I await your debut, phyllotaxial unfurling of death,
Love- deepest devotions impressed upon you
I devote to you, little rose
My cloudy attention
Eyes that also spring into season
As autumnal praying hands trace lifes suspension.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

A late developing rose provokes opposing feelings in this one. Of course, there is joy in the unexpected appearance, but also a sadness with the realization that the flower's life will probably be a brief one. Nevertheless, the speaker will celebrate, for late life is better than no life at all.

[William Kremer]

Thanks a lot for taking the time to read.

My perspective is more so a positive so it's cool to hear a different one.