Shining in the shadows various
Of the twilight restful, rose,
Full of the immanent expression, say
Find you peace in this enfolding
Recrudence of the making
At the quiet immolation
In the garden.

But, rose fled from worm-rot,
Rapid in the cold winds
Cunning in the frost's grip
Spread your profusion
Glow for an evening
Waking the senses
Urgent as perfume.

And beholder, garden-grafted.
Take the rose and scatter
The petals frivolous, penetrate
The heart-beat of beauty with a killing.
So you will make this darkening death
Perpetuation of the rose's glory.

W.H.O.

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