The Rose Garden
By Valerie Muriel Mckinley
Published: October 16, 2007
Updated: October 4, 2008

Pale grey eyes
stare at the scene,
a flat mask-like visage
reveals no emotion.
The gaze moves on
to view another tableau.

There is no sign of comprehension,
no assimilation;
the expression is blank.

Summer soft breezes
that lift grizzled grey hair
play unnoticed.
Cobalt blue beauty is ignored,
birdsong and wind chime
perform unheard
and perfumed nature
fails to stir the senses.
Warmth from the sun up day
penetrates, yet leaves
thin blood cooler still;

The demeanour remains,
placid, untouched.

Each stage passes,
now the last is drawing to its close;
soon the face will crackle and spit fat
in the heat of the furnace,
and the disintegrated
residue collected,
will be sprinkled over
the once cherished
and fussed over rose garden.