Open Rose

Red fades to pink,
To purple,
To wine,
Like a summer sunset 
Changes and is gone.
Petals softer than satin
More fragile than the skin
Of Grandmother’s hands.
Open wide to the world,
Free and generous,
To give its last essence, 
Its last golden beauty to 
My day. 

Published by Elece

I am a photographer and a freelance writer. I write stories, poetry, gift books, and magazine articles––both print and online. Photographing children, places, and especially flowers is my hobby.

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