WILDFLOWER

by Gordon Klopfenstein

I’ve sometime seen a wildflower and wished I knew
Its genus, phylum—or simply just its name.
Then a breeze causes it to gently shrug as if to say,
“Whether you know or not, I’m just the same.”

But that wonder coaxes me to see with scientific eye,
To know its heritage and its nature’s role.
But a sunbeam catches it and then I know
That I prefer to see it with my soul.