Noticed: Subtext.

I'm so in love with this time of year

that even the weeds look beautiful to me.
I know I shouldn't be feeling sympathy for them,
but just look at them,
fighting their way through the cracks in the cement.
They are strong-willed,
moving upward, against the odds,
to reach the sunlight.
I think
that I shall leave them there
and let them climb over the sidewalks
and up over my roof
and into my windows
and across my toes
letting them show me the way.