Cue the Muzak—again! Ahhhhh. Hello Naked Ladies. It really is summer.
These resilient flowers (I don’t know where they came from, did not plant them myself) are perfect to ponder when one’s brain is a brick, one’s creativity having run off with one’s sleep having run off with one’s “buck-up, Buffy!” approach to certain worries. Flowers, arriving. Flowers thriving in cement-hard dirt. Overnight: flowers. Voila! I stop, study them, sniff centers, sneeze. Thank you for choosing my rose garden, Naked Ladies. Give me a poem, stay awhile. Breathe.