 
 

        Wildflowers he picked
		  That lasted far beyond a hybrid
		Rose bought by bourgeois 
		  Hands and mind too filled
		With rapid pace
		  To stroll through damp fields
		And select Queen Ann's Lace
		  A few Black-Eyed-Susan's
		Or strong tall Iron Weed
		  That drink to each other
		In a crystal wine vase.
