Photo Credit – The First Scout
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.