With a spurn of yellow and a shout –

With a spurn of yellow and a shout –

A lone Mexican poppy

Aside the mountain path

Caught my meandering eye.

How diminutive was its stem

And so few were its petals –

Nevertheless – smart with poison –

As it stood there – tranquil.

For one who’s loud in color –

I warned the little poppy –

It’s not good to be popular

For you can be plucked easily.