Handful of petals a dozen bleeding red shriveled at long past bloom and locked within my room….how I cried for the thorns of stems that never came to soon so still held hopeful locked within my room. A two year breathe put me at peace but was this divine promise or ruse? Praying still for flowers past sunlight on a mid-day noon that twisted them rootless locked within my room. Then lay gentle the bright white of a stormy winter all things different and all things new. A gust of breathe ran in cold stinging to the lungs from the window that knew about the handful of roses locked within my room….Dear Roses our time has past from the yesterday’s moons……. fly away never to be seen…..we will meet again soon……………..