Saluting the Hosta

I don’t think I ever told you, but maybe
from the way I smile at you, you know.
Let me tell you anyway. I think of you
as a sort of honor guard for spring, bearing
so boldly your flags of variegated green,
as if green were everything, your way of being,
the wave that brought you to dance in the sun,
to put forth tall flowers and offer your seed
that green might forever go on. Green,
your path and purpose. And now is your season,
and I salute you and your song.

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