Daises, Bring Friends

A dot of white and yellow,

Smashed flat or frailly open

Against short green through mud —

A green still fighting

To be itself again.

I swear, I almost cried

The blond foam of the first beer on a terrace

Not even in person, pictured

My throat, my eyes, holding back questions

Like streams of sky-blue pleads —

Is it over,

Finally over?

Is it time for colour,

And replenishment?

I beg of you, daisies,

Bring friends.

I cannot settle for one more day

Without your copious

Punctuation.