Sub Rosa by Mark Brawn

There is asthma in the roses
a breath submerged in the earth is
choking the weeds
There are wounds in the trees
deep gashes that never heal
but trickle into a lake
of shimmering plasma
A parched sigh is rising
from the weaving grass that
entangles twitching skeletons
Beneath caustic soil
the animal moan shivers.
The garden is silent
then gently withers
Copyright The Estate of Mark Brawn
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