Spurned
When Spring’s hope fills the air, the rose opens with grace and a fragrant sigh.
Warm flesh greets ice-cold metal and gives way to metal’s pointed sting.
The space between heartbeats is silent but my ears ring with a terrible din.
Crystal speckles dot the space between my eyes and the hardness before me.
In Winter, the rose retreats into itself to await the arrival of kinder days.
Writers Envy 
Thank you for linking 😊
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This rose retreats into itself as well. Perhaps one lovely walk in the snow then hunker down and wait for March.
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Yesterday is the earliest we’ve had snow since we moved here from Hawaii in 2003. I anticipate much more. (Hunkering.)
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Where is here? In Illinois we have had a few snowy Halloweens, so anything goes
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Southern Maryland. I don’t recall an earlier snow, although my wife says we had snow on Halloween in 2004 (but then she knows what I had for dinner in May 1987) 🙂
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Wow, she actually can cite the year? Amazing. I can’t remember why I originally came into the room
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BTW, I thought you were in the UK!
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You are in good company! Many online think I am a lesbian and British.
I just keep writing. Good to keep people guessing!
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Haha 🙂
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Hey, I just saw this in the spam folder. I’m in Saint Leonard, Maryland, an hour southeast of DC on Rt. 4.
Strange how this showed up as spam when your other comments went through.
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very
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Spring will arrive. Your words will be accepted. I have faith in your seasons. :o)
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Reblogged this on Anna Dobritt — Author.
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Love this one!
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Thank you!
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