Sweet softness - I touch
a blown petal fresh fallen
rub its velvet skin
over my less soft fingers,
sniff the fragrance left behind.
The color almost
the color of his lips,
the touch cold, not warm,
although the softness as sweet.
Sighing, I drop it and wait.
I forget what this variety is called, but I love it.
photo is of the first rose I cut from my garden