the sieve and the sand

Another morning,
another day gone by
spent counting the days
and wondering when
my rose will grow

the children dance
and splash the hot sun
smile at passing trains
and ask when
my rose will grow

i’ve watched many years
pass and come, like the tide
mighty redwoods have grown
before my eyes
and no rose grows

to feel the thorn pricks
and dew’s licks
that soft tickle on your nose
from rose petals
that wont grow

another morning,
another day gone by
spent churning the soil
wondering when
my rose will grow