Wild Flower

wildflowers

Beauty just is
unvarnished
moving with wind
colored with sun

I walked for miles
with no destination
noting the frequency of
the wild flower

the pillars of stems
thorny or delicate
upholding the grace of
a small existence

Many line the road
leaning with flare
But petals that unfold in
the wild find their way

where we’ll never walk
I think, perhaps, that
is what it means to be
truly wild