A Rose
A rose
sitting high upon a hill
It stands out
much more beautiful than all the others.
Its redness,
glowing.
I slowly walk closer
my eyes,
a fixed gaze upon the rose.
I kneel down
and try to touch you.
but the thorns,
the thorns keep me at bay
from your delicate touch.
The thorns
are the distances between us.
I slowly walk back down the hill
thinking of what could have been…
I see others
gathering around you
but they…
they have gloves to protect them from the thorns
the thorns that keep me at bay.
and I must find…
a pair…
of gloves.
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