a bud, closed
protecting itself from bitter
winds that buffet the thorns
and tear apart petals like linen sheets
its cousin, wild
with life, the taste of the wind
opens, bared to the world
hardened and ugly by chill
the bud is clipped
displayed and slowly dies
but its cousin is deemed
too ugly, too open to be domesticated
in its ugliness
it lives and in its wildness
it echoes my heart, hardened
hearty and open to bitter winds
