Daffodils Save the Day

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 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