Look at this poem and see a flower:
a plush rose of constant changing color
to fit your mood, to match daunting power
of your mouth, blush of flesh I discover
each time I see you. One of those sun-ringed
blossoms in Renoir’s Roses in a Vase,
so alive you can sense it laugh and sing.
Geneticists have even made a case
for unfolding petals of rich gray-blue
(a secret project to match your great eyes.
I consider that a wise choice. Don’t you?)
We see roses exist in dusk-light skies.
In Romance languages, rose means pink or red.
To the Greeks it symbolized love…Enough said.
Roger Armbrust
February 28, 2012
