Then Rose’s best friend arrived
With make-up, vibrant hair, false lashes,
And tears in her eyes.
‘I was selfish, I was cruel, I was thoughtless,
I am a fool.
‘That doesn’t matter anymore’ came the reply
And then a priest arrived,
For Rose’s final Confession
‘I did not love enough!’ she cried
He was followed by her husband
Her other half, her soulmate.
He took her hand.
She squeezed his fingertips.
No words passed between them-
they had everything, yet nothing to say.
So then he pulled out two roses
from his blue bag
With a smile, he pressed the stems between her fingers.
Sitting up on her elbows, Rose said
‘Take one, my love. The other is for you’
He took it back and sighed.
Then he placed her flower near her head
His hands held the trace of her last breath.
She passed away with a lone rose to her side,
fluffy and pink,
Swaying to the rhythm of the breath of the wind.