For a friend, upon her survival of a second bout with Cancer.
I'm planting a rose today, a knock-out rose for you, dear friend. My hands wield the shovel, crumble and sift the soil, sprinkle weed inhibitor, settle with water, and scatter mulch, as I think of you. The rose bush steadies down, assents to your ownership its limbs posing petals of pink, white, and salmon, as varied and beneficial as the gifts you bring. Your art, your photos, your words bestow peace, benevolent as quiet rain on a warm summer day.
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