The meadow rushes –
timid daffodils in disarray,
lined by cold wind
like candles on a birthday cake,
countless, joyful.
I lean too close:
petals lift, scatter,
catching sunlight –
one tilts sideways,
its yellow face turned to shadow.
The meadow rushes –
timid daffodils in disarray,
lined by cold wind
like candles on a birthday cake,
countless, joyful.
I lean too close:
petals lift, scatter,
catching sunlight –
one tilts sideways,
its yellow face turned to shadow.