Roses

The clouds are gray and white today

They drift slowly away as the wind blows 

They are water and air lifted to the sky

Subtly they drift 

The night air smells different than how it used to 

It has been subdued by something new 

Sometimes I smell traces of the past as I turn corners or walk into my room

But it’s gone just as soon as I realize it

Too thin to grasp 

The roses will wilt and go away again soon 

Resting until next summer when the freeze is hidden away 

Then they will bloom again in a new pattern 

The same plant in an entirely new existence 

The color won’t change but perhaps their presence will 

I don’t know if the roses mean as much to me as they used to 

But I still appreciate their perseverance