I first noticed her as I was walking by the garden. She was short, hidden amongst the low cedars, not wanting to be seen. She looked older, mature, somewhat withered, but at the same time quite beautiful in her own way. I’ve been told that I have my own withered look of a male sage, well used, but still ready for new challenges or so I would like to think.
Clearly she was radiant in her younger years and must have attracted stares from all who saw her. Her back was still straight, but her head drooped a little in a relaxed, comfortable way. The soft cloud-filtered sunlight emphasised her tan colouring.
I turned off the sidewalk and ambled up the path into the garden, trying to get close, to see if her image was as beautiful close up. I wasn’t disappointed. I bent down to see if there was anything special in her smell. There was nothing, but that was all right - I was happy enough with what I saw. Then I knelt, getting as close as I could to this flower of the garden....this rose in the prairie fall.
I loved the way you personified the litle rose-treasure. And its picture reminded me of me,
kinda' wrinkled but still alive and hoping to keep on keeping on.
RJ
Very good Jack.
Absolutely moving and lovely.