Early July Warms


The Rose

The rose

reflects in the stag’s eye.

Held close

drops of blood fall

onto crimson petals,

mix in salty tears,

onto the waiting one

The stag raises his head,

sniffs the air.

Pine needles crackle

under his weight.

Perfume rises.



NEWS: A couple of my poems will be in an upcoming anthology put out by Gnashing Teeth Publishers, and I’ve got four poems in the new Automatic Pilot Journal, published in Ireland, available on Amazon.





About elainereardon

Poet, writer, gardener, herbalist, pottery, painting—bumping into magic, peeking around new corners.
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1 Response to Early July Warms

  1. Bravo! You are doing great. You are admirable.


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