Here is a lovely poem by my sister, Megan.
“I Will Not Name My Own” by Megan Taylor
Westward to the Headlands I go having
Left the babies at home and time to myself
God’s whistle blew the heather to the hill
but Heather is my sister. These flowers
are thistles and when I am wrong again
I forget and call them Nettles. Nobody
knows their name or tells the stem
from petal drop. Believe I learned belief
and ask quiet answers listening quietly
Do not see the emerald garter snake
slip stealthy round my leg. Just then,
Did it mate on the heather hill?
I kneel on invasive plants who answer more no more.
(C) Megan Taylor