In Praise of Meadows

queen anne s lace flowers in bloom

Keep your moss-strewn paths and trilling rills,

your cold, craggy cliffs of saxifrage,

your stunted floribunda tethered to a trellis.

Give me instead a wild meadow any season.

Let me hike when winter stalks have gone to seed

and rough grass crunches underfoot, then

in warm months wade through waves of sedge

and asters, past phlox, daisies, bright buttercups,

tufts of Queen Anne’s lace with blue ageratum

while milkweed volunteers sift under beneficent skies.

Let me marvel how, even at the margins of the wood,

tendrils of honeysuckle reach into this sacred space,

tremble in air so sweet bees swarm and hum in worship.

Nancy Young

Nancy Martin-Young’s favorite flower is the wild violet. She mows around patches of purple each March. When not outside, she writes novels, poems, and short stories, including her latest collection, Southern Edge.

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