Cascades of baby’s breath fill my view
With clusters of daisies and tulips, too.
Their colors are varied, a bundle of hues
Pale pink, white, and yellow, all arranged so askew.
From petite youthful bulbs to tall mature plumes,
The season’s torrential downpour brings with it fresh blooms.
And when the time for withering brings gray ashen gloom,
We’ll plant still more seeds to fill the remaining room.
And fast do they grow, despite the large wall
That obstructs brick by brick and overlooks all.
But those unaware stems continue reaching tall;
They can’t be contained, and they can’t remain small.
So tangled do these earnest roots then become;
They strengthen their purpose and join one by one.
Together, these blooms form a considerable sum
To utter a simple phrase to the tyrant: “We will overcome.”
