This poem is taken from Stand 217, 16(1) March - April 2018.
Poem
The Rose
So many arms, thorny
octopus, clambering over the fence,
tentacles that bite
when it’s time
to cut you back,
prune you
to grow away from the light
...
So many arms, thorny
octopus, clambering over the fence,
tentacles that bite
when it’s time
to cut you back,
prune you
to grow away from the light
...
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