Rosebush

Flailing wilted against itself
with blossoms browned with the burdens of time
the rosebush remembers
what the thorns were really put there for
thanks its Mother
for creating such protection
even though each petal is bruised and broken

A woman, windblown, harried,
spots the pathetic plant
carries it to her car
cradling
as a sick child
and brings it to a sunshine speckled porch
where it will have its new home

The rosebush
once again thanks its mother
for making it irresistible
to its new owner
by giving it the timeless fragrance of memories
and the beauty of vibrant color and the heart's longing
so it has a place to rest and be loved

In time
the petals drop off
making room for new ones
the blossoms overtake the eye
on the sunlit steps
and the fuscia flowers
dance in the daytime breeze.