Stinkweed and Chrysanthemums

A blue sky bluer than blue dye denim, cerulean or cobalt, so blue sky blue the sky said. The harridan often heard such things, the sky talking or a cloud gibbering in Esperanto or Portuguesa. She heard flowers blooming, daffodils and chrysanthemums, bluebells so big you could park a Buick in them. She overheard trees discussing the weather, oaks and elms, lindens and maples; she listened to sagebrush whispering forget-me-nots and crabgrass hissing in the broiling hot sun, to stinkweed and lettuce complaining and dandelions singing Wagnerian arias, tiny Gaullist helmets turned upside down on they’re tiny heads.