glory blossoms persisting
in the habit for which they were bred,
opening to light, closing against dark,
old growth discarded beside the road
determined, though rootless, to go on
preserving the illusion of life.
has always loved to write, won essay contests in high school,
and is currently in a writing group. She was formerly on the staff
of Franklin, Tennessee's The Review-Appeal.
Linda McClure Dunn