Poetry by Booker Catlin

Edited by Alexandra Eloise Kogan

I close my eyes

And imagine

A garden full

Of roses white.

I traverse this

Garden with arms

Outstretched.

Petals of silk

Filling my hands.

I find myself

At the center

Of this garden.

A red rose is its iris

Colored crimson

Through cuts of those

That dared to think

They could steal

That which cannot be possessed.