Roses

I never promised you a rose garden.Or maybe I did, in a wild moment.I beg your pardon. In a moment of wine drunk abandon,idealism rising to foment:perhaps I promised you a rose garden. There are blossoms where thorns hardenaround my green-thumbed attempts:they too beg pardon. Broken shovels and rakes also burdena space ripe with weeds’Continue reading “Roses”