Daffodils…

How long this winter has visited us for.
I do not get out of bed any more
refusing to laden me; in copious outer layers of clothes.
I have taken to walking the dog in my sleep
along with blowing daisy chains from clouds
of forbidden cigarette smoke.
There is still some life in the old gal yet – forgive me
wont you; if I refuse to croak today.

Billy came calling this morning.
What a dear sweet little boy he is.
He’d stopped off to buy me some candy
like two naughty kids; we shared a lump or two.
His innocence was my salvation this day.
No questions about me instead we talked
about his new sprinter bike.
He promised me a cross bar ride when I am feeling better.
I’ll hold you to that I smiled.

The rain has flattened all the daffodils
Yellow beheaded faces recline looking up at me.
I pull close the curtains – I want to remember them
dazzling in their yellow gowns – and yes, laughing
and dancing upon the breeze.

Damn, I hate the wetness of water where the hell
does it all come from?
My prospects are what you might call
somewhat unstable these days –
Oh, don’t mistake my out pouring, as me
looking for a shoulder to cry on
I just want the flowers to be golden
shining bright on my final days sun.

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