The Fall of Rose
MERCEDES LAWRY
Rose fell apart last night
while I slept. Petals dropped
in clumps, I expect, not singly.
Rose was done, fed up,
tired of having me admire her pretty face
while stuck in a canning jar
on the table of disarray, which
might have been interesting if Rose
was a reading sort of flower.
Not to mention ideal TV viewing.
I admit Rose has the right
to call it quits, and perhaps preferred
to shed her glory without my eyes
widening in dismay, as if I’d loved her,
truly loved her, which I did.
I think so, I tried at least. Oh,
Rose, I’m not ready to part, your petals
still here, in the small blue bowl,
pink and blushing. Do not fear.
I won’t banish you to potpourri,
but rather sift you with coffee grounds,
spent bluebells, and shards of eggshell,
to return to the earth and feed another rose
I may not love so wildly, though roses
can be so beguiling.
Mercedes Lawry’s work has previously appeared in such journals as Poetry, Natural Bridge, Nimrod, and Prairie Schooner. She has published two chapbooks (There are Crows in My Blood and Happy Darkness), short fiction, and stories and poems for children. A finalist for the 2017 Airlie Press Prize and the 2017 Wheelbarrow Book Prize, Ms Lawry is the recipient of the Vachel Lindsay Poetry Prize from Twelve Winters Press and her manuscript, Small Measures, will be published in 2018. She has received honors from the Seattle Arts Commission, Jack Straw Foundation, Artist Trust and Richard Hugo House, been a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee and held a residency at Hedgebrook.