by Tammy Nuzzo-Morgan
What do the daffodils know of the day?
They; newly emerged
full of promise, full of splendor.
What do they know of the blue of it?
What do the daffodils know of the day?
They; dressed in their finest yellow,
dressed for Spring.
What do they know of the gray of it?
What do the daffodils know of the day,
the sun clouded by insanity & pain?
What do the daffodils know of the day?
The wet beads drop onto them;
crimson on yellow, crimson on green.
Drops fast enough,
heavy enough
to bend their heads down
as if in prayer & in mourning.
What do daffodils know of an April college day
when class rooms become death chambers?
What do the daffodils know of the day?
What do they know of the youth who will gather
the promises of life no more?
Tammy Nuzzo-Morgan's books include One Woman’s Voice (The North Sea Poetry Scene Press, 2005), Let Me Tell You Something (Street Press, 2006), For Michael (The North Sea Poetry Scene Press, 2007), and Howling The Moon (Street Press, 2007).
