LankaWeetzie

In the garden of my grandparents three daffodils sway in the breeze one new budding, one in full bloom, and one laced with decay. Those these sunny flowers deceive me into depression Though bright, yellow, softly fragrant, they make me sad Many days o'er the past eight years to be exact I would run, skip, and laugh to ask, "Can I pick some?" My grandfather, always stern would crack a tiny smile Pick as many as you want carnations, daffodils, lilies I would visit, empty tummy'd leave full and mixed emotions with flowers in my cup holder bright and smelling sweet Now, I stand before a house their house is empty now,