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Love-lies-bleeding.

by

Keith Robson

A rose lay crumpled
in the snow,
how it got there
I donít 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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