Poppies

Every time I pass the driveway of 906 Chileno Valley Rd., I admire the wild poppies that guard the gate. I think of the unnamed man who mows the weeds each spring and leaves the poppies undisturbed. And year after year they reward him with fallen pieces of the sun to greet us all. I keep thinking I want to write him a poem and leave it in his mailbox, but no words come.
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