A twelve-zinnia bouquet five days cut still stands. Two stems collapsed; blossoms face down now. Others still smiling upright but dried, colors faded frayed and crinkled around the edges. I see continued dignity, beauty, and function. The hundred years old sagging prairie barn flaunts weathered paintless wood shades of decaying gray. Rusty hinges still swing creaking groaning doors. Role impaired but stored hay still dry I see continued dignity, beauty, and function. My 1970 college friends boldly gathered. Little contact in 50 years all aging in their places. After introductions, recognition, and reminiscence the inner souls of character show polish by time. I see continued dignity, beauty, and function.
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Amarillo Bay 