Granny’s Bonnet

I refer to its alternate for the other conjures, for me at least, unhappiness.
It was along the road. Look, she said, for it will not last.
What a beautiful thing.
I wonder why?
Not for you and me. For nature was here long before us and not even it may claim prescience.
Its color? No, for things considered otherwise may approximate.
Its shape? No, by the same logic.
Smell? I cannot tell.
Taste? I would not try.
Beauty is, in our eyes and mind.
A side consequence of interactions among and between the countless.
Neurons serving other purposes.
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