A rose dies


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A rose

disintegrates

 

Relaxed petals

supported by sepals,

content to leave the fold

that gives it a name 

 

Relinquishing ties

over their core

 

Rotting treasures bared

Receptacle precious no more,

without the cover

 

At every gust,

a few let go

 

Drift down.

Settle into the mud

without any ado

 

A tiny carpet of colour

under the bush

Last homage to roots

 

A rose lies

Its loveliness spread

Beautifully dead.

 ©Reena Prasad 27th Aug 2012

 

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