I don’t want to have to do this again for somebody else
after all these years of having done it on this day, knowing I won’t get there
now in time to leave the rose where she rests these days, when she decided she
didn’t want to be here anymore, a day or two late maybe, a remembrance of a
being I know existed even when few others do.
I don’t want to have to do this for two.
Not a rose of Emily as my favorite writer once wrote, but a
rose for a soul I knew along this weary road we once walked side by side on for
a time, before my steps steered me a different way, and hers another, mine
going on longer than hers did, or maybe since I carry her memory on my back so
she goes on even she never meant to.
Perhaps we all carry souls like her on our shoulders or in
our hearts, taking them beyond where fate or fortune meant for them to go on
their own, strolling this road strewn with rose petals.
I just don’t want to have to do this for two.
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