leeching from springtime irises, leaving them faded and spent.
Purple vanished, riding the wind until it was captured
by lowly Ironweed sentinels keeping watch by the side of the road.
by lowly Ironweed sentinels keeping watch by the side of the road.
Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. Luke 12:27
Beautiful, Wanda...
ReplyDeleteThey are beautiful, aren't they? Just a lowly weed. I know we have them; there's something in the pastures each fall that I've always wondered about. I'll have to take a sample and compare it with your pictures.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing this, I always wondered what those were. Wildflowers are so lovely and so is your narrative about purple. I enjoyed it very much. :)
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