In the Burned Grass
By Ewan
Sun, 10 Sep 2017
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3 comments
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In the sun-burned grass
- a wispy covering
for the scorched ground -
there are wild flowers.
Tiny dots of rapeseed yellow
punctuate the brown-paper shreds,
though those unknown weeds
like a buttercup's impoverished
cousins have no value.
Here and there
are purple and red pinpricks;
they might be pimpernels,
but for the ease of finding them
and the time of year.
In the sun-burned grass,
a dried-up promise
to fill the autumn air
with perfumed colour.
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Comments
It's always nice to see wild
Permalink Submitted by skinner_jennifer on
It's always nice to see wild flowers popping up in the most unexpected places. A treat to the eyes, like your poem.
Jenny.
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The pimpernels! What a beaut
Permalink Submitted by london_calling79 on
The pimpernels! What a beaut of a line.
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