On bare ground; I consider

Here's a repeat, my second twigs&stones post. It almost feels like a "signature" poem for me:

on bare ground 
I sprinkle small seeds
with abandon
as if growing wildflowers
requires a lack of care

—Notes from the Gean, June 2011; Take Five (vol. 4), 2012

And another repeat (though I decided to make a small edit here):

I consider
buying a lily
this week,
my deluded body
clinging to spring

—Simply Haiku, Autumn 2006

To all who celebrate the holiday,  H A P P Y  E A S T E R ! And  P E A C E  to all.

Summer gone

summer gone

a crowd of Susans

against the fence ...

dark eyes still smiling

in their come-hither way

—The Bamboo Hut, vol 1, no. 2, January 2014

On bare ground

A poem that surfaced and survived as I tried to inch away from my writing drought:

on bare ground 
I sprinkle small seeds
with abandon
as if growing wildflowers
requires a lack of care

—Notes from the Gean, June 2011; Take Five (vol. 4), 2012

The many wildflower seeds I enthusiastically bought and sprinkled around didn't amount to much. Perhaps that's not surprising in this, what I sometimes call, godforsaken place where "nothing" will grow alongside the towering lobollies save hardy native vegetation such as yaupon and monster wild grape vines. Of course, the extensive droughts, ongoing temperature extremes, and certain other factors didn't help. 

But every now and then, when you're not really looking, a few seeds will work their magic: for me, a couple of years later, a single clump of Texas bluebonnets, the lemon-yellow blooms on Missouri primrose. . .