POETRY | FREE VERSE | DREAMING | MUSING

Grace’s Garden

The remnants of our lost souls are often dignified as roses

Photo by Mahosadha Ong on Unsplash

By the fallen virtue of grace, we hold up our noses
to breathe, to filter, to smell all of these haunted roses:
one is a second chance to stop smoking;
another is a second pack to keep us gloating;
here we find a baby half imported,
it seems as…