Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. -William Wordsworth – Posted from my iPhone

By Allison Adelle Hedge Coke Feet firmly perchthinnest stalks, reeds, bulrush.Until all at once, they attend myfemale form, streaked throat, brownness. Three fly equidistantaround me, flashing.Each, in turn, calls territorialtrills, beckons ok-a-li, ok-a-li! Spreads his wings, extendsinner muscle quivering redepaulet bands uniquely bolden. Turn away each suitor,mind myself my audience.Select another to consider,He in turn quiver thrills. Leave for insects.Perhaps one male follows.Maybe a few brood of young,line summertime. Silver Maple samaraswing wind, spread clustersalong with mine, renewing Prairie. As summer closes, I leavedragonflies, damselflies, butterflies,mosquitoes, moths, spiders, crickets for grain, see, Sunflower;join thousands to flock Sky—grackles, blackbirds, cowbirds, starlings—Swarming like distant smoke clouds, rising. – Posted from my iPhone