Bloom

Yet another yet
another netted blather
pink-edged rose
on the ankle of an old
fence held rose gaze 
yet another scented 
haze across empty asphalt
the flowers whisper to the noses
hissing we will see your 
nostrils when you get close
to yet another old fence
netted together ancient
nails wistful dangerous
fingers wilting under 
the pressure to bleed