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Poetry
Blue Rose

"Blue Rose" - 12/2/03

Blue Rose

being at home
has never been easy
for someone as restless,
reckless as Rose

she paces her red room
as though tracing silence
might unhinge whole passages:
secrets deposed

how can it be, she laughs,
ten years and counting
...can it have been
nearly ten trees grown by?

since City's yellow fire
ignited effigies
into ambition's
orange burning desire

---

remembering what it
was like to long to be
discovered and choreographed
as stained glass
Urban of Eden's
menagerie-girl (passing
batons to whomever'd
watch as she'd twirl)

---

being alone
has always been easy
for bouquets so afraid
of losing blind purpose
like gossamer slow-falling
feathers of industry
cruelly the petals
dried from more to less
rueful do roses

draw blood (for to bless)