May 27th 2016

····blue—asters breaking over sun-glazed
The flowers that I saw were spiked blue-eyed grasses—tiny and beautiful flowers growing out of a dry knoll. There were also asters, and I chose these because they were fewer syllables. The heat at noon belonged to August but the breeze was still cool, and especially so as the sun began to slip from its peak.
I’m still not sure if I prefer soil or earth as the final word.
But earth seems too suggestively broad, soil too soft, whereas I like the hard solidity of dirt. Maybe tomorrow morning I’ll change my mind.
203 May 27th 2016 | bottlecap

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