White Roses

WHITE ROSES
by Alan Britt
Air-conditioners
replace the weary lungs
of housewives,
sometimes rattling,
shutting down abruptly.
Humming through the thick humidity
of interminable Wednesday evenings.
Outside, handfuls of rain
like mortars
explode the white roses.
Inside, silence.
Inside, you hear nothing
above the quiet roar
of air-conditioners.