I pulled these while weeding the yard this weekend. The picture doesn't do this justice, but in looking closely I noticed the delicacy of each leaf and the beautiful reddish-purple spot right in the middle of the green, as if tiny angels with paintbrushes had placed each dot just so.
I've been aware of these and recognized them as weeds since childhood, yet I do not even know their name. Who is it that decides which plants are desirable and which are weeds? (Would it be didactic to make an extension to humanity here?)
Words began to dance in my mind as I worked, specifically the last two lines of the following:
All the grown-up people say,
"What, those ugly thistles?
Musn't touch them! Keep away!
Prickly! Full of bristles!"
Yet they never make me bleed
Half so much as roses!
Must be purple is a weed,
And pink and white is posies.
(From a Very Little Sphinx iv by Edna St. Vincent Millay 1929)