I plucked a rose
For Megan
The color of her hair.
Almost fully in bloom,
The inner petals closed
Tightly embracing pistil and stamen.
Swirling wider, larger petals
Brighter, more maturely formed,
Embracing, creating shadows.
Circling in threes,
Each petal unique,
Stronger, more detailed,
Cupping promises.
Reaching outward
More petals open
A rim displaying a kiss.
Five sepals which once held the bud
Now open and proud of the one within.
A strong stem
With leaves weary from life’s journey.
The whole a perfect thing of beauty.
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