the rose remembers

Autumn Chant

Now the autumn shudders

In the rose's root,

Far and wide the ladders

Lean among the fruit.

Now the autumn clambers

Up the trellised frame

And the rose remembers

The dust from which it came.

Brighter than the blossom

On the rose's bough

Sits the wizened, orange,

Bitter berry, now;

Beauty never slumbers;

All is in her name;

But the rose remembers

The dust from which it came.

                  -   Edna St. Vincent Millay