Kelsie Methven

Where the seeds

They're a bunch of wandering green elves. Where the seeds fly, there are their figures: they are the most common grass in the flowers, there is no peony glory and wealth, there is no lily of pure elegance, there is no daffodils spoiled, there is no rose colorful. I still like them, like their tenacious spirit. They are the weeds of obscurity.