The spring's traces last,
Hot summers approaching fast,
Languid notes in the air,
A solitary bird's forlorn chirping
for musical share,
Drowned in stillness,
this late
morning bright and fair,
Sky's dull
blue,
Overhanging
the earth in paling hue,
But a smaller world is there,
The overall
weariness cannot reach where,--
In its
self-defined world
in a corner
tiny,
The
luscious wild flower
still
stands brave and shiny.
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