wildflower
You walk through the tall grass, careful not to crush the blooms. You don’t know how much longer they’ll last before the air turns cold. For now, the sun is hot and the ground still holds the summer heat. You pull a petal from a flower. He loves me, he loves me not. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. Open sky, room to roam. Free at last.
Inspired by the first fall breeze, Mother Nature, and the climb.
Stay toasted, xx.
