Try to count the petals on a daisy
its pollined center
the dust of butterfly flight
Punctured to crown the most basic
Queen
of gardened lawn
Prickling through my imagination
elsewhere in my mind
I play with those long gone
and long for those yet to come
Through paned glass,
dampened cloth
I still see the twisted crevices
But from this distance
as far as I could go
I know that
I am safe
With nothing in my soul
I hear
Forgotten by my own
self
but with my kind
Hummingbird fren
drunk and old
her bees down at their local
the rose
Poison above me
yet beauty all around
I am safe.
©2018 Clementine Yost
June 19, 2018
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