In this aging California summer
the grass is brown and dry.
The spent blooms of red clover
have crumbled to powder.
But not all has withered.
The dill, the fuller's teasel, lotus,
a few other plants are green
and blooming. They have
some deeper water source,
reaching down the fingertips of
their root tendrils to some
remote dampness into which
they tap and sip and flourish.
That is one of the arts of living,
isn't it, to have that deeper source
and persist when the outer world
has gone dry on its surfaces.
These plants have mastered it well.