Daffodils Save the Day


 This is how to bloom

  — for Dee, of daffodil season


And you,

From damp earth

and newborn grass

Born among daffodils.


The sky strains to grow.

You are ruffled edge,

a burn of gold.


And you, in resurrection

In this tender-sun season 

Made from burden and stone


In an urgent quiet, whisper

What are you waiting for?


— Drew Myron