This touched me beyond the clear divide generally drawn between those plants we would call beautiful flowers and those we would dismiss as weeds. It is an interesting statement on how far reaching our views of beauty reach when one only considers the external features of a particular item - whether plant or person. Somebody shared a quote somebody had made about patience making a woman beautiful in middle age or something like that, and I had to disagree. Patience makes her patient. She is beautiful if that is how she feels. While there is no doubt we all have that idea of what we find to be attractive, what does attraction really have to do with beauty...?
Weeds in this poem seem to be moving windward in an August hot sandy climate somewhere outside the realm of night or day, and flying unknown but to that nature that creates such stalks. I like to create the images off this poem, they come to one ":wild beauty unknown" and surface within consciousness to ply away from the writer and toward the reader in simplicity, not a rose, but a weed.
I will never look at a weed the same. Living here in AZ especially we need to find beauty in all of it around us. What a beautifully short, well written poem you have here. Thank you for making me look at all the beauty around me.