Rose

Somewhere high,

high in the sky,

in the clouds

where I can't reach it,

I just know it's there,

 

there is a rose, a rose for me,

closed in a dome

like the one the Beast had

in his castle -

a Rose of falling petals. 

 

Rose in a dome protected

from everything outside

but not from petals falling out.

And I wonder if it's the rose,

or the falling that's protected. 

 

I don't know (how can I know?)

how many petals left.

I just know

that falling is inevitable

just like the time passing.

 

Sometimes I think

there's still plenty left,

sometimes I fear

that last few of them

barely hang by a thread.

 

In those times

every fallen petal

weighs a thousand tons

and bends my shoulders down

so I can barely move forward.

 

I know it's not just one

rose up there for me,

but many different ones.

A bouquet of domed tickling clocks,

all colours, shapes and speeds.

 

And I just wonder

how many more petals

are still holding on

how many more

waiting for me before they fall.

 

© Ludmila (picture unknown)