ebbortz

Sunday, August 25, 2013

earth note 258

a carpet of thorns
from the rose bushes
creeping then weaving
a sharp wild fabric
over the terrace & concrete steps
     every one of them
     covered

as i cut it back
there comes a gnawing recognition
that the rose will always flourish
     it has no equal
and in this
     there is comfort

--- e b bortz

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