When Mom died, twice I smelled the scent of roses where there shouldn't have been and had never been before. The second time, I put my hand on my chest and whispered, " mom...?"
Line of inquiry: track where lies the fulcrum of the fragrance of a rose, then likewise find within, your soul —Unseeking Seeker Contest Fulcrum of a Rose pinwheel spinning reds, pinks, whites, butters I found the garden’s rest in peace s i g n a spray, spewed across this holder of breath letting g o the mailbox painted army green underneath my nose I know no more no less than lessons l e a r n e d with win some whiffs does it pass the sniff test… I’d like to find delightful the p r i c k i n g of my nostrils, the inducement of petals at first velvety soft their perfumes make my heart bleed my uncle’s in a green suit, laid out with just one truck punch, and it lingers his scent, his lack of smile, the coldness of the hand I touched - he’s asleep…he didn’t move a finger f r a g i l e youth forever bathed in rose-scented water a single red rose fought for his life in the snow the scent lingers in the leftover towers I’m adept in such ghostly afterglow my husband knows I prefer T U L I P S
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