Rose garden

In the rose garden,
the scent of rain,
a touch,
arbours stand with sunlight,
gardeners in green
dream and scrape.

Nostalgia,
cherry and cream.
Britannia,
sunset gold.
Doris Day,
yellow kingdom.

Trumpet song,
upright on thorns,
looking for music,
the circling crowd,
the crouching photographer.

Somewhere, between,
a hand holds
one rose
watered in the downpour
high over the willow
the crowd scatter
as the ducks swim,
the sky thunders.

 

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