Wilted Daffodils
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(Photo courtesy of flickr.com)
*Note: I wrote this poem last November and somehow didn't post it then. So, the timing of submitting this poem is a little off. As of today, those wilted daffodils are gone replaced with new buds about to open. Spring on the horizon!
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Last fall we faithfully planted daffodil bulbs in our tree beds, waiting patiently for their arrival in early spring. Then in spring, the daffodils, golden stars and trumpets of the rising green, came as a silent choir for our eyes and souls. Now, the once vibrant petals have relaxed to a brown-infused pastel of what they once were. From seed to seed, the green new growth, the swelling bud, the floral bloom, and the dead flower are all part the story.
wilted daffodils
the rhythmic, fleeting tick-tock
of grandfather clock
Copyright © Sara Etgen-Baker | Year Posted 2024
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