Today I walked in a small wetlands preserved by a creek in a north Texas suburb. I was between rounds in a chess tournament, and watching some lovely birds, binoculars and camera in hand.

I came upon this flower, blooming in profusion: http://www.flickr.com/photo...

I came home and looked it up. I found it was the western horsenettle, a poison to beast and man—but you would never know it from its purple splendor, blooming in the suburbs.

Thank you for blending my music with you spoken word piece. When I wrote ‘sensitive’, I thought it would be a backing for something audio or video, and I’m delighted you’ve mixed it with your voice and the cool shakuhachi. I love suburbs, but you’ve shown a fescue grass aspect of them that’s a good listen here.

Great work Rob—you be a wordsmithing hero.

The poet sees the mundane and reads it transformed.