We are so certain
of our tastes, our styles
our manufactured identities,
defined by brands
and politics,
by friends
and how we choose
to spend our time.

We are so certain
of the things we don’t like
and half expect the rest of the world
to care.

But all these things you choose
or choose not to choose
won’t make much of a difference
to anyone

Some of the bumper stickers
you flashed in your twenties
have faded.

In this hesitation
and resistance
to be defined by anyone,
you find yourself
more selective
on how you share
with your children,
with your friends.

Of all the images,
she chose a rose.
Pale and spotted with
rain or dew.
Though I don’t really care for roses,
I took her offering with grace.
I looked again
at the pale rose:
open petals
above thick leaves,
in black and white.
I considered the rose 

as a flavor component of
infused teas and jams.
And I found a recipe
with raspberries
for us to try
in the summer.

~ Megan M. Codera

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