Prairie Rose flower covered in dust Hot dry summer, with no cloud going by. Waiting by the roadside, futile beauty, it seems unjust Those pretty unseen colors; Soft muffled sigh.
Budding in the Dakota sunshine Pink summer’s blossom, thriving all alone. Yellow eyes unblinking set in a harsh design Roots in sandy soil and littered with stone.
It seems like a squandered struggle A wonder gone to waste But I was there to appreciate the trouble Those others had missed in haste.
