Wildflowers
The wildflowers are bedded
In the sylvan wood,
All the scents
About me, as if willing
To fill hearts with service
to excuse the act of being;
They spring in such wild grace
No one could deny
their virtue as splendid
And sweet as a soft sound,
The musty air heaves,
Reaching near yet far away.
—Lola Ridge
- Lola Ridge