By Field and Stream

It happens every spring
this urgent call that comes
from roadsides, fields, stream edge

blooms blurring as they wave
along highways until it’s hard
to tell Ox-eye or Fleabane

perfect disks: lemon plates
encircled by white petals
popping up in fence line

and fields, some nibbled
by night deer leaving naked
corolla mutations staring

at the sky like errant dandelions
I leave for their startling beauty
snipping long stems, leaving buds

to bloom tomorrow until
I can fist no more, carrying them
then to the purple vase

where they will drink and dance
in the breeze from the ceiling fan
this gathering a favorite May activity.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s