Daffodils I: The Yellow Troopers
The loyalty of daffodils stands guard,
frame in full regalia a now abandoned yard
grass and stone compose a meandering walk
A jutting form of concrete cries “Comp’ny, Halt!”
The framework of some pilgrim’s home is gone.
Weeds twist and twine throughout the errant lawn.
Saplings flower from the base of a nonexistent stoop,
and yet spring to eternal spring march on these yellow troops.
Daffodils II: Honor Guard
The loyalty of daffodils—
an honor guard arraigned in full regalia
lines the remnant of some bygone
A rubble of concrete marks the end
of this golden parade.
A sapling raises buds above
the one-time porch’s floorboards.
Yellow heads bow to the winds of fortune
but return to attention
each springtime season
—mark with dignity long buried hopes.
c.Darlene Moore Berg