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Roses
November 12, 2015
You grow and grow
with the water I sprinkle
upon you.
You close when the chilly
air blows upon your petals.
You blossom every time
the warm air of summer
arrives.
You're beautiful and strangers
admire you.
Send you away of the holiday that
needs you.
You’re beautiful and I will
admire you.
When I hand you away to
my mother and see
the glow upon her face.
She is happy.
© Steven S., Marblehead, MA
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