Don Ray<p><a href="https://mastodon.online/tags/Bloomscrolling" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>Bloomscrolling</span></a> <a href="https://mastodon.online/tags/Flowers" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>Flowers</span></a> <a href="https://mastodon.online/tags/NativePlants" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>NativePlants</span></a> <a href="https://mastodon.online/tags/Iowa" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>Iowa</span></a> <a href="https://mastodon.online/tags/Missouri" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>Missouri</span></a> <a href="https://mastodon.online/tags/poetry" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>poetry</span></a></p><p>Wild plum trees in context. </p><p>From poet Ardyth Bradley’s “Oklahoma, April” (but it fits Iowa and Missouri, too):</p><p>“The wild plum trees are everywhere—<br>next to fences by neglected fields,<br>white in ditches along the road, <br>blooming like kites in blackjack thickets.”</p>