Moon Roses

                       Written after my shock at 9/11 turned into an endless grief

 Sometimes, we have to leave the Earth.

Some times are bad times, war time, time

to learn how bad humans can be. That’s

when we order roses from the Moon.

 

Moon roses show up, brighter than summer

roses, pale and day-glo and neon

as if they were grown in an off-planet

hot house. They appear too good for this world.

 

We ordered four hot pinks, two purples, and two

creamy oranges, and they last as if their petals

were silk spun by Moon moths

in our winter cool solarium.

 

As proof of where they came from, the Moon is full.

At night, I can see our Moon roses longing for home.

                                    —Peter Jensen