Winter Rose
In March I asked the daffodil
What secrets it might hold
And like the loose-lipped lily
The flower gladly told
Now December’s icy breath
Shudders the shriveled rose
And I do not dare to ask it
For fear of what it knows.
Copyright © Ina Goodling | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment