Grief

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September Rose
(For Murray)

It is autumn, the last of my rose bushes withers
But one, small, brave bloom with edges brown,
Struggles still, in my overgrown garden
Choked and crowded, as weeds surround.

I do not know why I am drawn to it,
This remnant of some dreamy summer day,
Perhaps its fragrance is sweeter than I remember,
With aching heart, I long for it to stay.

In my mind swirl faded memories, flashes of your smile,
The courage deep within your quiet eyes,
That challenges me to reach for deeper meaning,
I push them back, I'm not ready for goodbyes.

Somehow I hear your whispered consolation,
As death and time your image tug from sight,
"Where love endures, there is no separation,"
But I'll hide my tears within the coming night.

My struggles pale beside your fading life,
I watch the graceful parting that you chose,
And finally understand that I'll remember you,
As a gift, as my September rose.

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