hello

a little poem for Sarah


the daffodils have started to wilt
early May heat, prickling at their stalks

petals turned upwards
towards that great fiery ball in the sky

eyes closed tight against the light
yielding bright colored shapes

moving and morphing and playing tricks
under the soft skin on a child's lids

a neighborhood summer game
performed to the sound of orange cats

on the window sills of house number 10
and geese squawking at passing ducks