The wild flowers I planted are dormant or dead or became part of the food chain. I thought most if not all were lost but I have hope. I found one bold bluebonnet. And if there is one, then as Emily says, hope is the thing with feathers.
Now that the rains have come- around where I planted, but not where I planted, the fields are red with flowers. Mostly fire wheels. There are some yellows. Some whites. The whites are mostly Dandelions with their papery pedals and spikes although some are daisies. And with the rain came hail. Some large enough to punch through a tin roof. Which splits. So not exactly holes. But fissures. That may be because of how metal is formed. Maybe it forms in metal lines- like soldiers in formation. I don't know.
Fissures in the roof from grapefruit size hail. It has been that kind of spring. And fire wheels. Lots of fire wheels.
like choreographed dancers
fields of firewheels
swing to a 14 mile an hour 4 beat
south east wind
traveling to Clovis
or Four corners
or even
Grand Junction
on the Utah line
