It won’t be long. Wildflower will soon color the sides of the Texas highways. Two years ago, I drove to and from the Panhandle each week for work. Loosing myself on that long stretch of road, I filed through my memory of years past picking bundles of wildflowers to give to my mom.
Let her cry, for she’s a lady
Let her dream, for she’s a child
Let the rain fall down upon her
She’s a free and gentle flower
Words by David Richardson