Daffodil


My heart's four-post bed,
A canopy of yellow rays.

Candle, burning low.
Golden aura, outlines the shape.
Golden blush.

Firefly porch-lights, drifting.
Concerts; crickets, cicada.
Playing loud, in the cul-de-sac,
To draw out the sun.

The moon enjoys the citrine flicker,
Tolerating noise, wishing
Only to wake to silence.

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Inspired by a single daffodil