wait to bloom

For whatever reason the rose waits to bloom,

I wait too.

Past midsummer and the rains,

autumn windfalls and winter gains,

the lean sodden spring is when I trust

the leaden slush and bedraggled birds

to learn me a new season.

What a risk to trust in this—

the fetid musk of life in flux

and the blooms that will rot in the rain.

© 2017 Anna-Christina Betekhtin, All Rights Reserved.

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