Now in November, standing at the kitchen window just right for sunshine at mid-day we marvel at the brilliance of colors painted on the garage wall as the flowers faded in the fall.
These summer wildflowers the real and the painted have taught our eyes to hear the music of color deep in the night of winter.
Hear that? Yes.
Is it purple or gold or pink or orange or yellow? Blue.
It is blue? Yes.
And how does blue sound?
Like a little girl singing
in our garden of wildflowers.
Is this little girl herself a wildflower?
Yes, I do think so.