Another too Early Frost

Another too Early Frost

 

 

granite enumerations

lineup of crushed roses

the flower bed once shared

 

now, rocky soil

blazes bare weeds

emerging from under

 

petals of profanity

clipped by severed stem

love's thorns trickle blood

 

I love you's echoed

so many times

they become blunted brands

 

bequeathed into emotional skin

that ceases to tend

to the blooms, unforgiving.

 

 

erin-cilberto

5/22/22

Reviews

[Patricia Wedel]

Since we moved to a larger home four years ago, I planted a Vintage Rose bush along the backyard fence in rich Organic Soil that I supplemented. It has matured into a large spreading array of Sunrise pink and golden colors.
The song "Rambling Rose" comes to mind. There is Hope when People and Roses rub Noses. gently, Pat

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Oh, good song, yes.
thank you for your words, Pat,
j.

[Andrew John]

Images great. Thanks so much for this, J.

[Relic]

One of the best things about poetry is interpretation. I agree with Chris in hers. This could also be the hard feelings that have developed over time from a love that was once as sweet and delicate as a flower. Poetry has so many colors when metaphors are at work.

Good one, J.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your review, Relic,
j.

[Weeping willow]

These words can mean so many things as life has a way of crushing us, walking upon rocky soil> Love you's echo through time, blooming in unforgiving times ;-]. Nice write.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, willow,
j.

[Chris Shaw]

That first stanza this morning just makes me want to weep. All I can see here is a massacre of innocents again. Another hard frost crushing the roses.

When will the lives of children be put first before the right to bare arms? It is unforgiveable that nothing is done to tide the swell of these killings.

Powerful pen J. Stirs the cauldron of emotions this morning.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

wow, Chris...such an interesting interpretation because of what happened yesterday, yet I wrote this poem three days ago.
maybe a premonition....or it's just been happening way too often.
I really appreciate your words on this piece...
thank you, Dear Friend.
j.

[Chris Shaw]

That first stanza J just did it for me I was locked in like a missile to target.