Long-stemmed daffodils, whose faces are flushed by a cold spring storm, act as if their lover, the sun, has left too early and is done.
Flowers like drunken ladies, brazen young daisies, mouths full of desperate drink, mistake their first kiss for a one-night stand, a near miss.
Still held high by our admiring eye, ‘quisitive camera is not too shy, we share a photo of their distress, for a thousand or so views, no less.
Even though it’s a trick of mirrors, we know the sun eventually reappears. Our gaze, tense upon the fragile reflections of Narcissus, for it is blossom’s desire we yearn to witness.