Ground Hogs and Roses
soft roses, held in bloodless fingers,
bleed a scented redness
caressed by lusts ache
masquerading as a gentle touch
each petal a charade
a “loves me – loves me not”
catharsis of collusion
covering its tracks
heart shaped
convenience store memories
withering dreams
melting on the dashboard
the groundhog smiles
its shadowless reflection
reveling in winters
unpredictability
John G. Lawless
©2/4/2019
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2019
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