Funny how I can’t remember
just how the Lupine looked
like a brand-new town,
the crowded Gilia, white heads
bowed without a photograph
for proof. All the pretty faces
gone, I have a crush on spring—
as my mother, her coffee cup
beside me, would often say
of my impetuousness—I fall hard,
all ill feelings squeezed
from the inside out, swept away.
But etched in my skin, in the walls
of my brain, I can’t forget the dust,
every particle I inhaled of drought.
drycrikjournal 
Wow, aren’t these beautiful
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I came around the corner and they just blew me away! Going through some photos I shot March 20th, I’d forgotten all about this one.
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Well, John I’m glad you did and then remembered it.
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Astounding – the color of lupine . . . Very nice verse . . .
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The Lupine are a gorgeous sight in the foothills in the spring. Them and the poppies are glorious.
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You have only to look at wildflowers to see how many shades of purple there are. From Lupines to Pincushions and all in between.
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I loved the “Brand new town” simile and the vivid colours – thanks for sharing. I have just started a poetry blog here on WordPress in case you have time to look? Today’s poem is about Spring flowers. Have a good day, Sam 🙂
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