Come, graceful brittlebush
And creamy globe mallow blooms.
The winds of spring call you
Again from the sandy tombs.
Come, you dashing lupine
And join the wingnuts on the hills.
Go and place your annual stake
With them near the trails.
There is room, woolly daisies
And Engelmann’s cacti, on the plain.
Come dressed in your best trimmings.
You are favored by the sun.
I will swing by and count you
Among my treasured finds.
Fill my life with flowers
So I know that I’m alive.
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