The grasses lining the roadways are golden-brown now
as if the sun has been toasting their seeds,
and above them mullein rises, its leaves woolly,
its stalks putting forth their first yellow flowers, so delicate
for such a large and stalwart herb. A fine breeze
dances through the trees. carrying the scents of it all,
pushing heaps of clouds across the warm sky,
clearing its blue after a night of rain. And everything
sings life and is reaching for its fullness.