Red stems, stripped bare, jut up
from icy black soil- like the rib cage
of an abandoned boat, keeled over,
on a Winter's beach. A roosting perch
for passing gulls, skua, tern.
Like strong ideas, striped to bare bones
by harsh times, they face the screaming winds.
Their secret strength nurtured,
they rise-
to blossom in Spring.
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