All Roses Bloom and Fade
(in memory of Conor Cummings, 11.7.92 – 4.7.08)
He smiles, too tired to stay,
His voice falls thin and shrill;
All roses bloom and fade
When laughter turns astray
And hands press their goodwill,
He smiles, too tired to stay
Hard hourglass turns the day,
Forced hope turns into drill;
He smiles, too tired to stay,
When medicines betray,
His flesh burns with a chill –
All roses bloom and fade
Hearts shattered while we pray –
He climbs one last good hill;
All roses bloom and fade
In sunken face of gray,
Life slopes away until
He smiles, too tired to stay –
All roses bloom and fade
— t. l. cummings
Image by the author
(a version of a Villanelle)
