In late summer you are Yellow Crownbeard by name-
a colony of green and gold.
In winter, Stickweed-
dry remnants, swaying in the cold air, seed heads chattering.
a colony of green and gold.
In winter, Stickweed-
dry remnants, swaying in the cold air, seed heads chattering.
Why do you stay?
What do you want to tell us?
Do you bring knowledge and understanding to those who appreciate
you?
Do you hold a cure for our physical aches?
Are you a metaphor still standing for something unknown in the
human world?
I don’t know you but I see you, and I see how you change.
Your once radiant beauty becomes a stark, shadowy tonic.
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