Who is she trying to impress anyway?

In homage to the forestIts heavy shadowsDeep and darkGreener than green,even when the sun is brightand the begonias bloom deep red.Bits of grass, spindly and fine, grow around the river of moss in dotsLike cattails before they’re cutThe bells of the foxglove ring and ring and ringWhen the air moves soft electric Blue Morning glories…

I’m learning what will grow, and what will grow successfully.

Her leopard, high heeled mules sure footed in the gravel. 

Of course there was glitter.