AN OLD FASHIONED ROSE

We are so pleased to be able to publish this wonderful poem by our local friend, Barb Curtis! She says that if she were to consider a vanity plate for her vehicle it would be “4EVR12.” At 12, one is capable of feeding, dressing and bathing without parental hovering. 12 brings autonomy. She and her friends were able to go to the skating rink and swimming pool by themselves, build tents over clotheslines and create talent shows in the carport! Staying in touch with her inner 12 is enriching! Barb was pruning a rose bush in her yard when this poem came to her and we are happy that it did.

AN OLD FASHIONED ROSE

For 21 of 41 years I tried to eliminate you

With hoe and shovel and ax.

Your thorny tendency to reach out

Scratching and wounding, annoyed.

But, year after year, no matter how hacked,

Your determined green branching announced that

You do not concern yourself with Bush Beauty,

But focus on the flower.

Your presence is under-appreciated, to say the least.

But your perseverance is respected.

I want credit for not resorting to poison.

It does the job, but with unknown ramifications.

When I finally surrender, because I consider stopping you

Tantamount to stopping tectonic plate movement,

I stand back and imagine another possibility.

Then, off to find a trellis, to lash

Your unruly, untamed branches full of thorns,

And embrace your inevitable blood red blossoms as gift.

It is Spring, twenty years later.

I approach you ungloved and bare armed like a

Shaman who dares to walk on hot coals.

Pruners in hand, I trepidatiously move in and out,

Clipping last year’s canes, shaping you up,

Anticipating the buds that will blossom into those

Blood red flowers of yours…Yes, you are an “Old Fashioned Rose.”

Is there hope here?

It is possible, at this later date that those I annoy on a regular basis

Might not attempt murder, might decide to embrace my unrulishness,

Might appreciate my tenacity, and allow a new bud to form?