inklings #23: DAISIES

I pay the cashier and carry away white petals, yellow centers, a reminder of summer and you. I keep them in a vase, but too soon they are dry, wilted, dead. A reminder of what I’d rather forget.

Next time, I buy seeds and bury them in moist, black earth. They grow and spread, but it is not enough. I walk through the neighborhood, spilling out rows behind me. Through the city, the country, all the way around and as far as I can go, until every patch of green grows white petals with yellow centers, reminding me of you.