[182] Behind the Rose

The wind howls

in the long hours

as a falling day

leaves me by

the open door

new cold creeps

into these walls

with lingering sun

deep in my pores.

A passing sound

a deep sigh

a million memories

fill my eyes

the wine still wet

and red

upon my thigh.

Around the corner

take a look

there's the star

the loving arm

feel the most

of what is close

and leave the woes

behind the rose.