Found In A Box

This poem, from my grad-student days, was in a box of all sorts of other things. This is as good a place as any to store it:

From gossy ruin silv'ry
Streaking skyward, spinning
A chilly dawn of rose, golden
Spears appearing, searing
Somber spheres of slumber,
Rising, glowing gold
Across the rusty hold
Seem soon to ransom gloom.
But then--
A rose surrenders bloom.

It is untitled and sent to a teacher, unsigned.

Does anyone know it? Or did I really write it, as it appears? In any case, I have to say I rather like it!