In today’s post; Poetry: In a Life Span, I am a singular pink rose, evolving in the element of time and experiences.

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Poetry: In a Life Span

Autumn. Somewhere 

in Washington,

a singular pink rose, 

holds on to every day

like it is the last.

In the span of four weeks, 

from the middle of October 

to the middle of November, 

she refuses to die,

one petal at a time

from rain to bitter cold days,

she stands firmly in a faint

fragrance.

All the leaves around her

turned the fall colors of fire

and earth.

The branches emptying 

her petals becoming limp,

before falling away.

It only takes a winter

to kill off a generation.

To live, then, is a matter 

of choice, is a matter of 

time, evolving.

That time was long ago

for me, and now, I practice in 

living a moment like eternity.

—Linda J Wolff

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With everything going on in the world today, practice in love, healing, forgiveness. The has forgotten; too consumed in the animosity and hysteria of the new media.

I’m not say that we can’t empathize, but, let’s not lose sense of humanity.