Every daffodil has six petals.

In each life time,

they will sit silently,

and watch each one

of their little arms

decay and fly away.

On the second day of October,

a lone black sparrow,

graceful as an angel,

few above the field

of bright white daffodils,

breaking at the sun.

As each petal exposed herself,

to the fire of

seven golden baby suns,

my heart grew dark,

in the enmity of

thy own sunken sins.







Until the eighteenth year,

where he let her,

fly with the black

sparrows higher than the

moon and over the

shore amongst the blue.


6 thoughts on “Daffodil

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