O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
-William Blake
Found this bright little rosebud clinging to life in my garden. It's a miracle the roses that came with the house are still alive in the best of weather, let alone now that temps drop to freezing at night.
