Alice Wyatt
Ripe or Rotten?
Ripe Roses

reaching out to touch the rose
it dissolves in my hand
cascading
petals of yellow and pink
carpet the ground
“Guess it was ripe!” someone laughs
a unique perspective - I only saw
beauty dissolve at my touch
perhaps my marriage is ripe
at my touch, will it dissolve
fall to the ground in a shower
of memories and heartache?
or will a bright rose hip form
giving promise of new life
in a different form, sustenance
against the bitter winds of the
long, cold winter that is old age