Once there were daisies, a glorious saffron acre
glowing along the river, canary beauties thriving by the waters.
I’d slip to their beds, through a carpet of moss, to lovingly snip the slender stems
and take them from under their cerulean canopy.
Selfishly I’d adorn my humble rooms.
A temple to color.
The blooms were nature’s offering to me,
tiny, graceful appendages radiating from a heart of gold.
The daisies are gone now. A shopping mall marks their grave.
My peaceful, precious disks of sunshine another sacrifice to the god of commerce.
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