Daffodils--


marching together in rows
woven so tightly, that to disturb
one
is to swarm the masses.
Heads bend down in thought
(or close to death),
making mirages of sadness
radiate from this cluster of
life--
more fragile than it seems,
and maybe somewhere
through the thick, unencumbered green
rises the budding yellow
of fresh
and brilliant
flesh

 

1998-2000 Linda Lee Tritton


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