---
The rose is aghast.
Its long-last war
with snow, over
and it peeks out
its petaled
eyes. sees this
world so
wonderful, so
bright, so
new.
spring.
remembers longer
nights, and
darker hours,
dreams of
shorter days,
chaos and
thorns -
piercing its
skin.
hides from the
light, and
recoils in its
fright, the
white, blind and
white, all is
white -
startling white.
it shivers and
returns to
white.
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