December Roses

Rose in the Snow

Under mounds of snow

a red rose blooms,

love we cling to

through persistent winter.

Seasons have slipped by,

our treasured rose remains,

desire’s burning flame.

Time is abandoned but

not the constant allure.

Are we love’s buffoons?

We are each others’ passion,

frolicking in this distraction,

under an endless spell.

Reasons to relinquish

lie around our ankles,

amassed like snowbanks,

white as angel wings.

Evening approaches,

the rose still blooms

and heaven is amused

by our unflagging folly.

Lainie Senechal