Under the Rose Tree
All the flowers in the whole world were under the rose tree.
A huge carpet with a tremendous grafted tree.
Someone said it’s the best way to see them.
Make an appointment though.
Jam packed except if you’re there in the middle of the night.
Sometimes the moon shows up shining her spotlight and
if it’s cloudy they actually hand out special flashlights that simulate her blond eyes.
People walk around pointing them this way and that at these flowers.
Waking them up is like opening a whole bottle of perfume.
Delicate scents or a very bold breeze.
Either are intoxicating.
So people end up falling asleep.
I swear they become sleepwalkers at two in the morning.
Dreaming things they never recall once they wake up.
I say there’s a reason because everyone leaving has a sort of starry look from their eyes.
They all have it, but that’s nothing compared to the dream I suppose.
Under the Rose Tree · Sokratis Sinopoulos