The speaker begins with a quiet sigh of sadness: we lose the people we treasure most. The trailing dots after "how" feel like a pause, as if the thought is hard to finish. Then comes the turn. "But then," the speaker seems to shrug and offer a gentler way of looking at it: even roses lose petals.
The comparison does a lot in a few words. A rose is the classic symbol of love and beauty, and yet it sheds petals anyway. Loss, then, isn't a sign that something went wrong or that the thing was never precious. It's simply part of how living, beautiful things work. The speaker doesn't dismiss the pain, but tries to make peace with it.
The mood is wistful and resigned, with a little comfort in it. The short lines and the gap before "But then" give the poem a hushed, reflective feel, like someone thinking aloud. The title, "Loner IV," hints at a solitary speaker, which makes the acceptance feel hard-won.