Red roses


Sometimes she buys roses to herself

Looking in the mirror
she can see she is beautiful
in a special way

He is looking at her
but saying nothing

He does not want to be cringing

She can see another way out
looking out of the window




Poetry by Onwards
Read 952 times
Written on 2012-01-22 at 12:20

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countryfog
This evokes such memories for me . . . my father never gave my mother flowers, though he thought her beautiful and loved her deeply. For twenty years now she has gotten them from me, and in a way from him, lying side by side. I love the last stanza, leaving it to the reader to "see" what it is she may be seeing "looking out."
2012-01-22