14
Apr
13

the night garden

there is no rest for the wicked/weary/wred wroses.

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when i left the house yesterday morning, this tree rose seemed to be sleeping, buds furled tight against the overcast sky.

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this morning, in the dark of early morning, when i went out onto the porch to pick up the paper (i know, how ‘old media’ of me) it was apparent to me that they had spent the night out partying and were just getting back in, petals pulled back, a bit dishabille, as one can be after a night out on the town. i stepped back into the house, quietly closing the door behind me, not wanting to disturb their slumber of recovery.


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© Robert Patrick, and Cultivar, 2008-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts, photographs and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Robert Patrick and Cultivar with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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