Trickles of rain water run from pavement to pea gravel,
gravity pulling them, no will of their own,
to find the soil that holds the roadside flowers.
Clear drops cling to petals and leaves, gently
falling to mingle for a moment with their wet cousins
from the road and then become one, soaking the ground.
Roots absorb the life giving water, and defying
gravity, it rises through the plant to touch
the drops on petals and leaves.
Yellow, purple, pink and white, the flowers
brighten the rainy day, shouting color and light
as cars speed by, indifferent to their grace.
Sublime in their beauty the flowers present
themselves as nothing more grand than roadside
art to be dismissed or regarded as you like.
Your writings have a lot in common with the beautiful little-noticed roadside plants, Butch.
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