“the Rose”

The rose long since bloomed,
droops wearily in a desert of hope
swaying in the wind
no longer proud or caring;

Hoping once more for the rain
to bring back the bloom.
petals dry and fragile
hang tentatively to the vine,
roots unmoving; it waits –
to no avail.

Once it rained a second time,
but not now,
not ever
will it bloom again.