Glowing, glimpsed…
swaying in a breeze, lone buttercup.
Your lengthy neck angles, flat-cropped,
yellow top dares rival a blue sky, that when black,
raged, poured down on your flimsy head — sent low
amid sparse weed that hard - fought gravel,
clasping an Angel nourished. Your golden coat
shook glad dust … upon them. As a brood, coexist,
nestle on a solemn, jagged road — once
bent unending past wheat, corn and potato.
Now, just as neglected. Indistinguishable lines fade,
tar slow collapses from her intense glare,
left spider-cracked, craggy — not like
a flimsy flower seasons saturate,
sun - anointed, glowing, glimpsed…
by me.
~~
~~
~~
~~
~~
~~
~~
~~
~~ L
~~ o
~~ v
~~ e
``~~’
``~~’’
``~~”
‘’~~’”
7.27.22
8.14.22 edit, formatted for Shadows and Light mid July/August contest
Idea that we are beautiful and remarkably outlast some of a dying world?
I aspire as a buttercup, or as the weed? |