Poem: You Have Roses — Miriam Levine

You Have Roses

Miriam Levine

I go out before the sleepers can find me—

no light, no shine,

dead horse of the river goes by

under a dirty smear of sky,

factory windows still painted

over, green as pond scum.

Dead ash, red rose, go on in me:

nothing is cancelled or made better.

Where the alley opens to hot yellow light

there is room for one rose bush.

Mrs. Agnello brings me the rose of patience,

heaps the swollen graft tip,

tenders with bent fingers,

gives me crimson curled

like the first word in a baby's mouth,

the dew of morning.

"You have roses."

I keep saying, "You have roses."

PoemsMiriam LevineAugust 10, 2019