A hearty growth of phlox

now encroaches on the cairn of my beloved BB,

shepherd friend who lies in peace ‘neath friendship picked stones and memories.

I shall try to transplant what needs cutting back,

dig rather than chop off.

The light determines the color of the blossoms,

some say pink, violet or purple.

Others say lavender, blue or a shade of all.

Fragrant, fragile blooms rain upon the grass as the breeze pushes her fingers

through the leggy stems.

A light floral fragrance lifts,

settles onto the back of the tongue and summer is tasted.