Daffodils, by Jim Farfaglia
I like them best when they appear
in the ditches of rural roads,
hugging the trunks of apple trees
or lined up along neighborhood homes.
I like them best when they cluster,
as if someone from down below
broke through an endless winter
to hand us a bouquet all aglow.
I like them best when just opened,
their pale yellow abeckoning,
their delicate petals forming a cup,
where we drink in the birth of spring.