Only the Rosebush

The sky is full of white clouds like feathers.
They frame the sun in a rainbow ring.
My backyard is drenched in hazy sunshine.
A pair of cabbage whites flutters over the grass.

The peonies are faded and droop to the ground.
All the spring bulbs are done flowering.
The last camellias are falling from branches.
Only the rosebush is blooming now.

The Bone Man stalks in the wake of protest.
I’m afraid for what summer may bring.
Faith is my comfort, and blooming roses
and my beautiful city shining in the dark.

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