By Mack Hall
Word Count: 80
Rating: G
Summary: This world is like a desert, we must find our roses.
If in a desert live we, still, we live
And our recusant duty is to live
And plant here roses that can never die
Even if they die, for that which was still is
Immutable in life and hope and faith
By drinking not of sad ephemera
But from a clean, cool well offered to all,
With places at a Table beyond thin time
True roses bloom; dust only blows away
If in a desert live we, still – we live