The rose explodes in fiery red.
I trace the silky outline of a petal,
Search for the scent, the seduction,
the mystery.The rose disintegrates in my hand.
The news explodes in blocked out black.
The president speaks, the people tremble.
The flags seem stuck at half their mast.
The crowds shuffle, they whisper and argue
and leave blossoming bouquets behind.
My heart implodes into pools of lead.
I read, I watch, I turn away.
The television drones, while I numbly
walk out to my gardenAnd try to drag
the beauty out of a flower.