The daisies have died.
I saw them this morning
through the kitchen window
while I drank my coffee
warm in the cool fall air.
Their leaves are still green
and their stalks are still strong
but their proud yellow blossoms
have crumpled off and blow away
on the strengthening breeze
that blows continuously now.
All that remains
are their big black eyes
naked without their lashes
unsheltered and blind.
In a dying world
the daises have died.
