What rose can I give to roses
to show them my deep love for them?
Would they like pearl drops of water
to drape upon their leaves and stems?
They look sad in my crystal vase;
like missionaries in a pot.
They’d choose broad shoes of soil to lace
with roots. Glass slippers just don’t fit.
If I love them, I should free them;
enfold them in petals of earth.
Even with amputated stems,
they can feed a new rose’s birth.