Daffodils

Sometimes I wake early in the morning
Writing sonnets and soliloquy yet
Admiring the bare naked tree line
The patch quilt work of gods crocheted pattern
Stretching beyond the imagination

There is this diametrically opposed
Beauty within the juxtaposition
Driving West until the ocean appeared
Leaving tsunami zones just as quickly
As melting snow ushers in river swell

Leaving an overly saturated
Residue of pine mixed with muddy shoes
Traipsing across the white linoleum
Bringing whisper soft kisses to your ears

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