Monday, March 19, 2012

Elegy--The Last Rose - Poetry by Adolfo

Late roseLate rose (Photo credit: Mary Hutchison)
Elegy—the Last Rose

By Adolph Caso

Transfixed onto my eyes
The lonely player
With a saddened look on his face
Plays a mournful planctus
From the lower register
Of his violoncello,
The sound
With the diminishing scent
Of my sister’s Luise’s single rose
Its pink petals standing above
The dark stem
Surrounded by thorns
Hardened by the long winds
Of the better half of November.

The sound lifts my eyelids
Onto multi-colored leaves
Corralled by the wind and rain
And blanketing the grass
In its deep sleep.
Against a red sunset,
Here and there a few leaves
Standing erect as if antennas--
Are receiving secret messages
Who knows from whence or where
While processing
Both the music and the perfume
Through the dying leaves--
Their delicate membranes vibrating
As much to the cool evening breeze
As to the tremolo
Travel through my receptive veins
As though I were living the Middle Ages.

By the edge of the lawn
A thick patch of Creeping Carpet Bugle
With its variegated purple-bronzed foliage
Seeks deeper roots in the moist soil.
A sheen of redness mixed
With traces of purple and deep green
Mark the presence
Of the coming winter
As tombstones record
Those of my recent departed:
Chris, and Florentino,
And you,
Mia cara Luisa,
Now that you are enjoying
The splendor of heaven,
Think of the beauty
You left behind
On earth,
For us to enjoy.

A myriad beams of white light
Shoots down onto the horizon,
One bouncing off toward my head.
On morphing into your face.
You place a kiss on my mouth
And quickly disappear.
I bring my fingers to my lips
And feel the softness
Of your tender kiss
As though it were real.


Adolfo Caso, Friend,
Poet, Author, Photographer, Publisher
is a regular contributor to
Book Reader's Heaven...

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