My Rose

My roses are making their last bloom.
They fight season's end but they show no care
for it, they come on still.
Fewer flowers than first,
but the bush is much bigger and greener as if cursed
in June to look puny.
I took one two days before the first hard frost.
It sat on my table really not looking lost.
And as it opened slowly to its own fullness
winter descended with a great "OH!"
It answered in kind.

© Julianne Carlile

2010