Islands of purple iris
lined with gold
around the bend
past the shining creek
took easily to soil
like kudzu strangling
light poles and trees.
In the neighborhood, scuppernong
arbors, cherry trees,
hard pears from fenced
yards, honeysuckle blooms,
fat blackberries, Queen Anne's Lace.
Morning glories vined,
cornflowers by the door,
rose bushes near a boulevard,
boxwood. Remember the magnolia
in Maryland? Catalpas and willows,
dandelion seeds in the air,
violets, buttercups small in grass?
Was this not wealth?
The white skirts of schoolgirls
swayed in procession, velvety pansy
petals strewn before Mary.
Mama smiled at the handful
of her own grown flowers proffered
by children, jammed in jars--
snapdragon, asters, and daisies.
We wove a crown of dandelions
for our sister, the queen,
golden caplets on each attendant there.
So easy to love the gemology of field
yard, and meadow! So cheap the bounty
that filled such rich summer days!
-Donna Isaac
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