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The Rose

The spring is quite far off
when the sun and rain begin to raise
the sleeping beauty of the earth

and bring to bloom

the life that has been dormant
for a time
 

And yet I've tasted Spring already
in the Fall

As one might say

the prothesis of the eschaton
a preview of the things to come
or then again

what might have been
 

It's strange to find such
promise, hope, and tragedy

within
one tiny rose                      

 

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