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Love-lies-bleeding.
by
Keith Robson
A rose lay crumpled
in the snow,
how it got there
I don’t know.
Out of season
born too late,
a remnant of
a lovers fate.
What tragedy
had passed this way,
I'll never know
I couldn't say.
It lay as if
to cry out loud,
like loves lost blood
upon a shroud.
A floral statement
of regret,
a wish that they
had never met.
A crumpled rose
a heart lies torn,
until the day
love is reborn.
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