I have Queen Anne’s Lace at my house,
knee high in the ditches,
opening and closing with the rise and set.
 
It is a gentrified version  
of its prairie cousin, behaved,
uniform so as not to outshine
 
the neighbors, clover, thistle, dandelion.
But oh! the prairie lace stands regal.
Mother Nature’s tatting grows tall
 
among the grasses, the coneflowers and Black-eyed Susans,
swaying together in summer air,
perfect royal wave in the breeze.


© by Sara Sarna.
Used with the author’s permission.