rosey

the rose bush out back refuses
to die. strangled in vines, covered in fungus
the branches brittle and dry
i gave it a hand because like everyone else
the bush was barely getting by
sick of the pieces
sick of big ideas
sick of the storms and the nights

and do you know that stupid bush bloomed
a single, light pink rose
a day later it was blown apart but hey
what other life does it know