The Rogue Rose Bush

grows between two homes
in my neighborhood.
Neither family claims it
or tends it.
I doubt they know it is there
but I do.
I pass it every time I walk
Wee Jack and we stop
and ponder it. Pay it respect
each in our own way.
I carry a small scissors for 
the perfect miniature rosebud
it might produce.
Worth fighting the spiny thorns
that challenge me, as does
the ditch in front of it.
Some would say it thrives
on neglect. I do not
buy that canard.
Nothing thrives on neglect.
I take that lesson home with me.