A rose dies

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A rose



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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