Ellen Porter
7/10/08
Daisies

Quick little daisies never seen the light
but reddened by wind and drying air.

But you dance about the dunes
wet and hot.
You dance, dance and leap
leaving not a tempo too short or
a stripe to memorize.

Now I am here alone,
alone beyond all questioning or answering.
In the next few days or across a week or tow
I will meet my maker
My wonderous, breathtaking maker
And then I will be wholly and totally
myself.