Roses for Life

A shieldwall before the dyke,
broken into lines
                in my skin,
                never clan tartan,
                               but scars of fear.

When we met,
we knew each other’s
wounds
(though we did not know of them).

Childless by choice,
that those lines  do not turn
future scar.

Roses to remember,
roses to reclaim
streets in common
(lest we merely relive
the ancient war
just reenacting, over and over again).

Streets
we all walked
alone
for far too long.

Roses to colour the fields
that lay barren
all those years,
cold
after the trenches.

Roses to dance with,
to dance around
in fertile circles −

Roses
(sacred moss at their feet)

we grow

safe sigil