Wild Flowers
By Beth Miller

Driving down the broad-shouldered road
Bright warm sunny summer day.
Air conditioner on, windows shut;
Singing along with the hit of the week.

Stop the car by the side of the road;
Walk to the edge of the pavement;
Zoom the camera lens focus
On the glorious, bright, natural, silent, wild flowers.

Enlarge the pictures and hang them on the walls
In the air-conditioned, closed curtained apartment.
(Sunlight would fade the furniture and heat the place.)
“I just love nature,“ sighs the contented hostess.


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