Driving down the road,
I stop to praise the wildflowers
guarding the gully
like yellow-billed soldiers.I praise your sensible size,
clustered in God’s bouquet,
open to the arrival of bees,
spreading the wings of spring.Your beauty is the first swamp color,
popping up in winter’s wake.
A glorious butterweed ribbon
unbounded, blowing in the fresh breeze.Even with your death, you feed us,
such is the circle of life,
from compost to crawfish,
trapped, boiled, and Cayenne-peppered,
just in time for Good Friday Feasts.–Margaret Simon
Butterweed
March 25, 2014 by margaretsmn
Spring is here–so beautifully put.
Glorious butterweed ribbon…what a beautiful image!
Margaret,
This poem! Fabulous!
I have made travel plans and hope to see you in May.
xxxooo Sandy
Sent from my iPhone
Wonderful welcome, Margaret. I’m not there, but sometimes I am, & in Missouri, the roads are lined with blue flax, so beautiful in early spring. Thank you for writing about this ‘lowly’ flower.
LOVE these lines:
guarding the gully
like yellow-billed soldiers.