OUTSIDE MY OFFICE window, six purple allium heads sway, nodding in the breeze.
Clusters of six-petaled flowers spike from the center like needles in a pincushion.
The orbs, bigger than softballs, lighter than air, balance on the tips of long, slender stems.
They appear delicate, fragile. But they’re tough as nails, perched high, exposed, as if to say, “Look at me. Look at me.”
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
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