Daffodils

I have lain and listened to coyotes call;
Their yip yip howl piercing the moonless night
As I toss sleepless; my thoughts a brick wall.

I have trudged through fog — grey, damp, thick and deep;
Obscuring the sun and hiding my path,
Drowning defiance and welcoming sleep.

I have seen branches turn black with frostbite —
Shrivel, wither and die; misshapen stumps
Where happy growth sighed and gave up the fight.

And, still, each year daffodil leaves appear,
Green spears pushing through the icy cold frost.
Daring me to bloom, to live, without fear.

Thank you to the Poetry Palace for this award!  Check out the site for some great poetry.

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