Alex Garr

Summer Roses - Poem by Alex Garr

The afternoon sun shines down
With its brilliant radiance,
Bathing everything in its warm glow.
A rain had fallen only hours before;
The heavens crying and sobbing;
The trees still weep the tears of Nature’s sorrow.

I look down from my bedroom window
To see the green grass glistening with soft raindrops.
The driveway, once a dull Grey,
Has now soaked in new life
And has turned a Black so dark,
It seems like it could absorb the Light itself
Like its unfathomable cousin
In the dark reaches of space.

Sitting just next to the driveway
And nuzzled up against the grass
Is my hedge of Summer roses.
I planted their tiny seeds many years ago
With my mother one Summer afternoon like this.
I was so interested in the way they sprouted up
From the soft soil, their tiny green fingers reaching
For the heavens above. Each day I would
Water them and care for them
Like they were my own child.

Then one day I grew bored with them.

I moved on with my life,
Discovering the joys of money
And driving and girls.
But now that I’m older,
I can appreciate my Summer roses so much more.

I step outside into the warm afternoon air.
A slight breeze rustles the distant trees.
The driveway is littered with small, shallow puddles.
I step right through them as I make my way
To those Summer roses.
I bend down and put my nose right up against the petals.
They feel soft and warm and wet,
Like a velvet blanket.
The smell rushes up my into my brain,
Filling my head with Memories.

That day in sixth grade,
When Spring was just receding
And Summer was showing its face,
When we played capture-the-flag
Out on the field as she looked on.

That day in eighth grade
When we came back from the museum
With our prizes in hand as she spoke to me.

All those Spring days in high school
As the bell rang and we leapt from our seats,
Excited for another round of vacation.

These Summer roses are mine
And mine alone.
No one else will feel the way
I feel as I take in their intoxicating aroma.
They will fill no one else but me
With the smells of
Friends, Fun, and Freedom.

The Freedom most of all.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Poem Edited: Friday, March 18, 2011

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