The thistle is all done.
The dogrose bows beneath the sun,
The greenest tree the gravest
Skeleton.

The bravest has been slain.
A crown has lost its Aquitaine,
An amber jewel its setting
Yields to rain.

Besetting cold is near,
Thrusts blue to bone like any spear,
Parts flesh and bone and gristle.
Winter’s here.

Copyright 2008 Briar Rose

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License. To view a copy of this license, visit creativecommons.org/licenses...c-nd/3.0/ or send a letter to Creative Commons, 543 Howard Street, 5th Floor, San Francisco, California, 94105, USA.



(The illustration is called "Dead Roses" and is by a London artist called Mayko--
thelittlechimpsociety.com/kuron...ayko/)