A Rose Tree
Fleur Adcock

When we went to live at Top Lodge
my mother gave me a rose tree.

She didn't have to pay for it—
it was growing there already,

tall and old, by the gravel（碎石） drive
where we used to ride our scooters（踏板车） .

No one else was allowed to pick
the huge pale blooms that smelt like jam.

It was mine all through that summer.
In October we moved again.

But even never seeing it
couldn't stop it from being mine:

one of those eternal presents.
At the new house I had a duck.