Rose petals fall
Drifting to the ground
Scattering
Lying softly
Still letting off
Their gentle aroma
Months pass
The petals stay
Still beautiful
In their disarray
But as time passes
The petals fade
Slowly withering away
Until they crumble
Falling apart
Leaving nothing
Of the rose behind
Then the winds came
Blowing the dead pieces
Of the rose away.

© A. Beckman