The poppy is a flower laden with symbolism. To some it is the flower of remembrance; to others it speaks of the hope of resurrection. By virtue of its narcotic qualities, the poppy is both a source of dreams and the stuff of nightmares. The wild poppy is a paradox, apparently fragile yet grabbing onto life in seemingly desolate places.
To me, the flowers evoke memories of long-ago summers, brief but still shining in the mind’s eye – like the poppy itself.