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A Cafe Rose by Stephen W. Cote
a cafe rose
lonely and old
rests upon a table
she's seen, she knows
the coffee's cold
The bread just a little stale
she wonders why
she hasn't seen a blue sky
in so long
they call her wind
she'll blow her breath again
she's been a sage
everyone is at her age
they call her old
they call her cold
she is what they say
as the doors close
left to stand alone
petals in wilt
thorns mellow
a cafe rose
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Copyright © 2002 Stephen W. Cote, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. The author has submitted the work in accordance with and in agreement with the following Submission Guidelines
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