Narcissus
by Dave Kosiur
Slowly it lifts its greenery
from the soil
And then spring into a bright bloom.
Oh, what an appropriate name
Spring is for the season!
We may have planted the bulb
and admire the clean whiteness
of the bloom
But it just stands there in
the sunlight of early days
Not able to admire itself
like its mythological namesake.
For what purpose?
It’s own,
Of we which we know so little,
except to admire how it graces the world
with its simple beauty.
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