Flowers

Sometimes it's amazing, the things we call weeds. blemish, spot, curse, scourge, (even minor imperfection) we cast aside veins and ribs, doubt worth: an ant's journey, carrying a wounder warrior home on its back across a discarded leaf. and in the blossoms bees massage nectar and whether rose or dandelion, the only difference: flavor there's nutrition in dandelion just the same. and while less sweet, there would be no balance without savory. so my friendly weeds, i celebrate you with tender consideration of your rung in the at once gentle and violent organic process known as life.

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