moonlight
the garden rug
blossoms
Erin Noteboom
Carpet roses climb the slope along the steps up to the river path. These are not the full, blowsy, cabbage roses that make one think of England, nor tight, symmetrical buds like those at a flower shop. These are flat-open roses, deep-pink with pale centers; relaxed, abundant in blossoms rather than petals.
The neighbor who planted them has moved, but these sturdy, hardy plants bloom on without care. Though these crawl rather than climb, they are reminiscent of the wild roses that engulf old shacks on abandoned farms.
These roses are my neighbors now. They greet me every morning as I go up to walk along the ever-changing river. Sometimes busy with bees, sometimes drifted in snow, they are perpetual residents in a neighborhood of people passing through.
this sky
these roses
another summer
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