Summer bathers blush
Destructive purity weeps
Dawn brings the scent of roses to tempt me outside. Pale faces whisper good morning to the rising sun. I share the moment with an invisible blackbird. The world sleeps as the rain falls, marring perfect petals… each clear drop outlined in red as if the living earth bleeds for their loss.
Rain-heavy roses genuflect, bowing before Great Nature. I have watched them grow from eager bud to overblown maturity. Even in their ending, there is beauty still, though after another order. Soon the petals will fall and only their memory will remain, a seed of beauty captured, their fragrance a ghost on the breeze.
For d’verse‘s Haibun Monday