by L. Rose Reed
I saw a rose bloom in the desert sky;
She dawned as red as new love’s blushing cheeks.
The earth unfurled her colors in reply,
arousing yellow dust and purple peaks.
As bone-dry canyons yawned to break the day,
the red coyote burrowed out of sight—
lest daylight steal his life’s blood all away.
Harsh, the rose! We love her best at twilight.
No verdant grass can crown the rocky hills
where rose’s greedy briars pierce the scree.
But look below! Sage blooms, and cactus frills,
still yearning for her burning gaze. And me—
I thirst the cold night through. When dawn draws near,
I bloom. This is the desert—and I grow here.
L. Rose Reed is a former social studies teacher, current librarian, and forever bookworm. She writes queer YA speculative fiction and modern poetry. Her hobbies include costuming, gaming, graphic novels, and bothering cats. You may find her at her beloved spinet piano or on Tumblr @LRoseWrites.