The eluding fragrances of daffodils,
they mask my face with simplistic arrays of spring days.
Through swirls of brown sand,
memories trickle along the shoreline.
Dropping off crumbles of a once fossilized land.
Handmade castles of a childhood dream,
alone with the beating of a blue-green sea.
Smooth wave’s crash against broken rock.
The sound of my past, shattered, yet tough.
The droplets of spring falling from above,
comes not from pain but of being this free.
A renewal of ivory,
a wondering creature allowed to breath.
I suddenly see