Queen Anne's Lace
Queen Anne's Lace, brittled brown
donned in snow instead of a crown
off the side of the tar, where the deer still roam
bent toward the wind on their freeway home
From their bird's eye view the cars blur air
They bend in a bow with elegant flair
Although they be broken, no speck of green
They know their own legacy, royalty preen
And once in a while, their subjects take note
as I did on last Sunday while using their road
As a passenger in one of the whooshing cars
Fogging up windows, under their stars
I noticed their caps and their grace and their strength
I swallowed my voice and gave pause at length
They've brushed by my legs in summer, bright green
Jeweled earrings of bees, crowing lace between
Royal Queen Anne's, brittled brown
wears fitting white ice as a noble crown.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2005
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