Words on the Wind

Several weeks ago I hung a string of Tibetan Prayer Flags from our back yard fence. They are wind-blown, tattered by rain and sun, and faded to pastel shades of red, blue, yellow, and beige.

They flutter over tulips now shed of their blossoms, and wait for the roses to bloom.

I hope for some divine intervention to ease the eyesore of our back yard. We inadvertently applied an agent-orange like defoliant, thinking only that we'd applied some weed-killer. It looks as if the hounds of hell have been pissing on the grass.

I think I need larger prayer flags.