The Last Rose

By Dorthy LaVerne McCarthy

I saw the last rose of summer.
It was bursting with sunlight,
almost a prayer,
steeping in lazy afternoon,
purple with balmy air.
I put it in a dusty book,
and looking there,
find that I do not have to fear
winter’s leaf-bare days,
for I have captured September
to treasure and remember.


Published on September 1st, 2022




                                                          ©TheCaliforniaPoppyTimesNews. All rights reserved.