a rose on snow

fall vapor catches and thaws the last standing rose;

on dew turning into a frost greeting –

 

caught in my last breath of summer,

i linger in between that space

understanding the rose —seen

slipping gracefully into winter.

 

oh, how could i have embraced you?

knowing, i must let you go!

 

with that said, i sigh a good-bye

with ego and pride; 

windy hair and your bright blue eyes.

 

Romeo, Juliet, and those perfect Bob Dylan lines

that created a pause in time to hear the tide

of changing times.

 

now, i also must go. but, instead of leading

—i must follow the petals fall.

 

a peeling self in love,

always blossoms anew in the soul

that never touches the  ground