Spring has turned into a long hot summer.
The four roses have grown and bloomed
Into shades of red: scarlet, crimson, magenta,
While the white rose looks just as good.
To see them is like a reward when I get home,
For I have weeded the plot regularly,
And watered the plants morning and evening,
Noting their seeming desire to impress me.
The carnation, though, has wilted away
With only one faded flower today,
A day when I feel like the roses,
A day when the future is what I chose.
-March,2016.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem