Roses in June

(12.06.19)

They say follow the stars,

but I prefer to

listen to silent heads

with my feet planted.

A child again, stuck

thorns in my thumbs.

They'll touch me if I bloom-

or wear patent shoes.

Guide me, flower

"Red for Stop-
Green for Go!"

When the petals drop-

I know it's time

for a new place,

to take up space

and grow. 

Peony rinse,

she's waiting-

in her chair

waiting to drop.
She's puckering up

and we embrace

in different shapes,

I'm bigger than her now.

So let me stop-

smell the roses

bury my face;

"Kiss your Grandma

Goodbye-"

 and a silent

"hello again".