Dead Roses eulogizes two dozen multi-colored roses. I loved them from the beginning, when first my eyes beheld the blush of their petals. I wasn't inspired, however, to record their lives until they began exhibiting the provocative individuality that became apparent as they aged. As young buds, they were very alike in their perfection. It took the blowsiness of middle age to unfold each unique personality; and the elderly, oh those became my favored models. Each day revealed a new twist, a further wrinkle.