rosepoems

those rows of roses
all sowed just so, sewed
with thread, they were tread
in a path just so

and we ambled through as anglers
searching madly, blindly
through the murk, the dark
in a sea, we couldn’t see

we sang songs in our blindness
forcing fallacy filled fantasies
and what we read in the dark turned red
like those roses

but thankfully with care
we came up for air

above it all,
we rose