Let the white roses grow by Adam Parry

The day is done, some just begun.
The sun strayed awhile, strayed into the garden.

The cat grass rises higher, daffodils lie dormant
for another spring in the day.
The stones I washed, the stones I carried as I
wagered on a turn of the day, finding a new door into now.

The cat grass grows exponentially
while the rosebush waits
for a button hole moment.

In another now, not now not then,
dreams' tears I do not recall
rises the cat grass higher, high as a hedge,
I consider cutting it, but
I will let the white roses bloom.