The Missing Rose

Dust lazes

On an abandoned vase

Waiting for a rose

Fingerprints paint

The story of hope

Turned to despair

On an abandoned vase

Waiting for a rose

And with its warmth

And its life

Sunlight dances

And reminds

The abandoned vase

Of a time

Long ago, where a memory lingers

Of warm sunny days

A table set

With woven placemats

Where laughing children

Full of life

Would run for hours

The tall grass

Tickling their ankles

Summer salad

With vivid heirlooms

And fleshy olives

Drops of water

Ran down lettuce

Freshly washed

The same water

Mother would pour

In the shining vase

Proud

Of its rose

And its beauty

Then mother left

The laughter left with her

The children grew

And their love for the rose

And the vase

Left with her

The rose wept

Until no drop

Was left

It faded

And withered

Its last breath

In the folds of a garbage bag

Alone.

The vase dried

And crusted

Its once shining glass

Now sticky and dusty

Haunted by fingerprints

And memories that rest

On its surface

An abandoned vase

Waiting for a rose

It will never have again