Summer Colors

Summer flings colors
Like a child
Afflicted with glee.
We are splattered
With the gift.
Who can do anything
But laugh?

Weeds 

 

Weeds

Are the life we do not seek

Or want,

The frenetic abundance of earth

That seeks single-mindedly

To be born,

Sprouts and grows

And grasps for sun,

Then suddenly is there--

A sign among the beans

Of life’s determination

And even, perhaps, its joy.

Always among us are weeds,

The things we see as wanton waste,

Doomed to be ripped out,

Destroyed, or ignored.

But sometimes,

Sometimes,

Sometimes,

These weeds may give us

Summer's sweet, surprising flowers.

 

--Timothy Haut, July 7, 2013