Ending

By: Kyle Elden

Outside
it is only one
degree
steam rises off the lake
as cold settles in
against the
remnants of warmth
from
other seasons

you might not
think
it’s hard
to hold a once vibrant
but now dead rose
in your hand,
and lay it down
to rest
with all the red
sucked out to brown
and shriveled,
peaked
in this darkest
time of year

you might think
it’s easy
to understand
that all things die
and we must let go
that at the end of every road
there is still something
beyond

It is not