Five roses in a jar
On the kitchen table
Layers of petals
Skirts and frills
Make shadows
Like folds of flesh
Four of them are
Antique white
Like an old
Wedding dress
Tinged with
The gray-pink
Of silver polish
The fifth is paler
More ivory than blush
The color
Of old paper &
Pear-shaped
Instead of round
What is written
In the cells
Of these blooms
Whose blood
Is on their thorns
The eye is drawn
To difference
It calls everything
Into question
Since we're spending so much time at home these days due to Covid, I've been putting extra effort into making it a nice place, including buying flowers for the kitchen table every week. And it's important to remember the people who grew, picked, and packaged them.
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