A naked rose
released her past,
slowly undressed
as time soon passed.

Memories shed
her petals dropped,
the present stays,
the future stopped.

Delicate frame
dried and decayed,
her form now gone
beauty remains.

Body secured
by prickly thorns,
holding her space
although now worn.

The lightest touch
pierces a finger,
her figure gone
but scent still lingers.

– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy

Originally Published on January 9, 2021