An Anamnesis Of Spring √

chaparral

I plant words,

Like flowers

On a chaparral.

Maybe it's foolish,

But you see, I can't just plant them on good soil

Where they'll grow and be pretty to look at

Because there is no good soil;

We all plant things on dry land, never certain if they will survive

Still, against our better judgement

We hope that they would.

— directions: water these flowers with nothing but love