Crepe Paper Roses

by Rachel Boury Baxter

 

Flicker sprinkler,

drops and streams

cutting through air

sodden with rays of noon.

 

Roses dry and crinkling

like crepe paper from

an Independence Day picnic

several days past.

 

It is the blush-faced season,

the time of bare toes and

hot raspberries eaten

right off the bush.

 

Everything melts

except those spirits frozen in time,

summer nostalgia

at an all time high.

 

Dry like a rose in need of water,

I’ve seen many Julys -

The air is as thick as mud, but

slippery, it slides through your fingers

 

                                                              when you try to hold on too tight.

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About the Author

Rachel Boury Baxter is a poet, writer, and mom living in South Bend, Indiana. She has a B.A. in English writing and English literature from Saint Mary’s College (Notre Dame, Indiana). In 2016, she founded the publication, Poetry in Form, a celebration of poetic form. Her first collection of poetry, Mother Scorpion, was released in April 2020.

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