Kay's White Roses - Poem by David McLansky
Your winter roses are in bloom
I see them from your living room
How odd to see their bursting buds
Along your driveway’s frozen mud;
They dip their white carnation heads
While in the cold earth you lie dead;
It dares to grow and even thrive
Heedless that you don’t survive;
The cold air smokes my cloudy breath
I sense your absence, your flailing death;
White roses recall our temporal doom;
The empty driveway that they festoon;
How unattractive bobs the flower
In the cold rains early shower
I see your grey-tooth rotted grin,
'Won't your wife and you step in.'
But then you fell on the cement
And knocked your head, a bloody rent
Your purpse to secure junk mail
Which was destined for the garbage pail;
You lost the power to get up and walk
You became an infant who couldn't talk;
You soiled yourself in your bed
Your dignity rose up and fled.
The circle had become complete
I squeeezed your cold and bony feet;
Helpless on your bed sore back;
You could not rise, your body slack.
Comments about Kay's White Roses by David McLansky
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.