Daisies - Connie Wanek
In the democracy of daisies every blossom has one vote. The question on the ballot is Does he love me?
If the answer's wrong I try another, a little sorry about the petals piling up around my shoes.
Bees are loose in the fields where daisies wait and hope, dreaming of the kiss of a proboscis. We can't possibly understand
what makes us such fools. I blame the June heat and everything about him.
Big Book Of Poetry
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