A single rose danced stiffly
in the cold December dawn
her petals turned
like blood red lips
to greet the Winter sun.

Her sisters had danced
before her there
but they knew better times
hot blue skies and leafy trees
the intimate kiss of honey bees
in a world that sang
and chirped and hummed with life.

But even though the sun is weak
and all around is in retreat
the wind blows cold
and days are short
still
she holds her head with pride
to take one final curtain call.