Roses in Time

by Maureen Teresa McCarthy

Blue clear waters lap rough stone

I step carefully across a narrow causeway   

To hard packed sand on a cold beach

Climb a steep and rocky path

Wings folded close, no use should I fall

Light fades no time to fly

In the far bay, a gray ship looms

Mist closes in over darkening water.

High above a house waits

Anchored on rock and roses

Oak door open  

Smooth wood beneath my feet

Wide windows welcome light

Ferns and ivy living green

Book lined shelves

Fire warmed stone

Sofa quilt pillows rug

Pink cream lavender soft

The table is set

Warm wheat bread, wine

Smooth sharp cheese, peaches

Candles at the center

            Roses

Cream pink mauve lavender

I know them

Roses of yesterday

Old Blush, Josephine,

Zephirine, Celciana

Rich scent from a far past

Sweet with thorns.

I am drawn to the window

Wind and water rise

Silent ghost ship huge against the sky

Carries loss and sorrow

Shadow over sun colors fade to gray

Dark swallows all

Passes slow out to sea.

Light returns, firelight shimmers

I light candles

Break bread, pour wine.

My house is built upon this rock

This time is mine

I gather roses.

* * * * *

Maureen Teresa McCarthy is a central New York native who moved to California, graduated from SF State and worked in publishing. She traveled in Europe and Mexico for two years, returned to the Finger Lakes, completed her MA at Syracuse. She taught Composition at various community colleges, raised two sons. She has published essays with Fairview and University of Michigan Press, has completed a civil war novel, and has always written poetry. Her poems have appeared in Comstock Review, Months to Years, Penwomen, and other journals.