Late Summer Roses - Mary Swanson

[Larry Robinson]

Late Summer Roses

In the calm
of a late summer afternoon
my father sent me roses.

I was watching two
white butterflies
dance around each other
through the light and easy air
when I saw them—
pink roses
so small
one fit in the palm of my hand.

The scent
Ah, well, the scent
of a rose
can open you.

Long dead, my father
sends me roses.
My heart
like a child,
amazed.

      - Mary Swanson