From Where No Rose Bush Will Ever Be Reborn Poem by Shirley Harrison

As if world's sky hadn't just fallen
and Raven?
well, he's perched on my windowsill in silence
which edges my nerves even more
as if a fairytale has just been extinguished with an old fire hose
The fairytale of what once was and is no more
tear drops of a clown
a soul now down
gone back to where it once came from
beyond the underside of the wild roses

Black, black, blacker than black itself...

from where, no rose bush will ever be reborn.