Cruel Rose

the rose is clever cruel beauty born in thorns
for how else would a tiny weapon be most desired?
even raindrops long to be free from greedy clouds
if only they might bathe velvet soft pink pistils
unscathed eternal longing of sacred hidden hearts
drops fallen to earth to meet with the desert dust
I can hear them crying and calling tears their hell
for they seem to disappear in hot and sunny swells
each one dissolving gone into earth’s muddy lodging

sweet strange flower

i see you, my sweet strange flower,
clinging by the side of a busy highway
you are as gray as the storm clouds say
the ones who have always threatened you
before their dark rain showers arrive
car lights burning and tires splashing
the soiled remains of where they’ve been;
misplaced flower, i swear i saw you once
i dreamed you in an even sadder dream
still standing there waiting patiently
praying for me to paint your true color,
as blood flowing from your wild thorns