My Southern roots grow down deep into the sweetest soil right next to the most beautiful magnolia tree. Though surrounded by darkness like a mud pie, they draw nutrients from the brightest Light. In the summer, the crickets sing their songs late into a warm twinkling sky as a gentle verbena breeze brushes through my leaves. In the fall, my branches sway to the beat of a tailgate kickoff. They shimmy a wintry two-step through coldness and snow (sometimes) until those blossoms make their springtime debut. Only don't miss my blooms, for they disappear almost as soon as they blossom. They are quick and fleeting, but serve an eternal purpose.
