Arts + Scene » Poetry

A Morning in June



This morning
I came down the stairs
put water on to boil for tea
opened the door to get the paper
first breath of a new day
and there at my feet
sweet roses in a jam jar vase
smiling up at me unmasked

I asked the usual suspects
"No, not me," they said
though they were charmed
There was no way to thank you
but to pass it on
so here it is, my words
in exchange for your kind deed and
thorn stuck fingers

Thank you, unknown flower bringer
Thank you, too, reader of these words

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