Photo Credit: zomx at

We have roses
in the backyard
and they bloom
with reds and pinks,
their bright faces
beaming in the warm sun.

Do roses even grow in Florida?
Because that’s where we are,
the palm trees
peppering the skyline
and brooding sunsets
flickering on the horizon.

My grandmother loved roses,
and she lived most of her life
in Florida,
so maybe it’s not such a stretch.

Who knows?
I know I never will.

Those warm evenings
with crashing waves
playing in the background
are mere imagination,
fantasy cooked up
to fix these moments
where I’m shattered
and needy
and desperate
for a respite
which does not exist.

They are shadows
of yesterdays
and tomorrows
lived in alternate realities
and I’m just stuck
in a wormhole.



5 thoughts on “Roses

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