by Debbie Okun Hill
C2010
All Rights Reserved
Along the highway, grey asphalt
I used to sway to nature’s music
line my earthen bed
with Queen Anne’s Lace
white petals of wild daisies
purple loosestrife running
through my grass hair
But today, my feet are littered
with paper flowers
Tim Horton cups and
MacDonald bags
brown cardboard bent
white tissue curled
faded in sunlight
and I wonder
who will pick my cluster of
man-made flowers
now wet wash trashed
in summer’s warm rain?
Editor's Note: painting by Louis.