Initial simpers lay the land

To a nursery I thought would thrive

Never fathomed you would wilt or languish

Always assumed the seedlings would survive

But no matter the tender care

With all the attentiveness there could be

There will never be an immortal flower

That shall flourish for eternity

A summer’s embrace will one day dismiss

And the next morning the snow shall fall

Perhaps the rosebed I thought was mine

Was never really mine at all.