There is a wonderful rose garden near my office. I go there almost every day to see what has changed and to smell the flowers. My phone has many photos of roses which caught my eye on different days. This was yesterday’s rose. The beauty and the scent were unaffected, and perhaps even heightened because of how damaged it is. The gardeners tend lovingly to this area, but somehow this rose must have been particularly appealing to whatever is eating it alive. I think the holes are lovely though with their negative space framed by dark edges. I felt a kinship to this flower. Relationships and events in my life sometimes nibble little pieces of me away and though I am alive, I too am a damaged rose.