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the scent that bemoans me of a dying rose

not of death inferring, but of life preserving

through its folds it clutches senses

charting courses through darkened, rusted fences

or atop mountains shedding waterfalls as a love commences

unyielding layers, partaking of endless shades anew

unfurling through time, a slow peruse

all in a smell, as my imagination ensues

Transylvanian Lullaby-Erutan

inspired by the roses my daughter received for her graduation, i captured these images and as the scents enraptured my senses, the thoughts came. how beautiful a dying flower is to me. how even in its seemingly decay, behind the scenes, beneath the folds, life still breathes.

thank you for reading and for more of my flora photography you can view my gallery here.

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