by Harry

Submitted by Joanna M. Weston


buttercups and dandelions
have spread their fires
across the garden

Queen Anne’s lace
tats the borders
and vetch spangles
through shrubs

neglect has spun beauty
among the grasses
knitted mint and monk’s hood
among stem and stock

wild roses edge their way
in brocaded clumps
while a cherry tree has imposed
itself against the house

I linger at the gate
scents drift past
and I reach to pick
a single buttercup

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