escher poetry — [O] :: 6

china roses
my aunt’s sideboard
maybe gran’s
they’re long since lost
to me

i remember nineteenth century soldiers
i wonder if
there was something
she was saying

real roses
have aroma
an intoxicating breath of peace
taking over awareness
for just a sec

as do real soldiers
but that’s something else
granny never told
well    never told me

on a high summer day
true flowers
stun pottery’s every dimension
but when wintertime is here
only ‘ware has form

i wish memory
was like china
something fixed
to carry
into the night