There are peonies in the garden
But mostly I’m drawn to the clover and buttercups
Scattered across the field;
The way they appear from a distance to be more than they are,
The way we get up close and give them names;
Common, everyday ones
That you’d step right over
And chew
If you were a cow.
But these purple pom poms cheering in the green,
And these clever little yellow scoops
Caught my common heart, uncommonly;
In an unguarded moment
Before I remembered what was
Across the road and past the fence
Waiting to be named
Something new.
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