Ode to Quilted Flowers

To stitch a quilt I start with flowers

pink as tulip fields in May

that float through emerald hours

for how can I portray each day

if not for purple alpine aster’s?

A needle and a thread to fabricate the golden head

of California poppies.

If there were one thing I might master

it’s that which often goes unsaid

in periwinkle wild blue of solitary valleys.

From Lupine to Delphinium

Mountain daisies, Fairy Bells

to edible Geraniums

who linger at farewell.

Red-winged blackbirds sing

embroidered scarlet dreams

the Nootka Wild Rose that showers, color in the quiet hours,

I know not always what I bring

but blue-sky seams

to multi-colored wildflowers.