Stephen,
I initially couldn't find or misplaced your rose snap snap. The imagery is
so striking--our footprint upon the earth, upon fresh grass, the footfall
on concrete, marble, hard wood. And those smells, sounds and sights takes
us to those memories and people so precious in our lives. Your poem took me
there. I'm sorry for your loss, grateful for your words.
Deborah
in NJ
Deborah L. Humphreys SC
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> [Original Message]
> From: Stephen Vincent <[log in to unmask]>
> To: <[log in to unmask]>
> Date: 5/3/2005 11:28:18 PM
> Subject: Re: Rose Snap
>
> Thank you, Peter! The roses are booming out around here.
> >
> >
> > -----Original Message-----
> > From: Stephen Vincent <[log in to unmask]>
> > To: [log in to unmask]
> > Sent: Tue, 3 May 2005 15:46:34 -0700
> > Subject: Rose Snap
> >
> >
> > Quiet flows no sun. Or was it "son" I meant to say?
> > One prays in the morning for each to unbend into life.
> > The woman who appears uncombed to shout atop a long
> > Open balustrade of white, yellow, red and pale-apricot roses.
> > I have never heard a rose shout. When stepped on
> > The odor released is said to be "the order of forgiveness."
> > When stepped on, as inevitable, may I breathe roses, and you, too,
> > And your son and/or daughter, fresh petals, crowns among thorns.
> >
> > Stephen Vincent
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