Rose Abandoned?

I began this poem a couple of weeks ago - on a Writing Marathon. I think it's about aging and that whole life process I find myself in the middle of.


Rose Abandoned?

Floating under a stone bridge

green water shimmering

nourishing what’s left

     of your long stem and

once pink petals

In that movement

     from budding green, then

     bursting forth with color and life

To opening so wide

accepting all

     even the edges of petals

     turning from supple to dry

                             from pink to pale brown

And you just lying there

     suspended in time

     unaware that all life

                 leads

 to death

Ripples from the wake

     of human tidings

     move you suddenly along

     like this must be the

     natural way of things

While a long stemmed rose

     lies dying, fading,

         

Satisfied.