The Daisy
By Beverly Greene
NOTE: This poem is protected by international copyright laws and may NOT be reproduced in any form without the author's expressed and written consent.
A ghost town remains,
left memories of days gone by.
Old buildings decay,
shells of lovers long ago,
as dust weed rolls by,
remembering distant laughter.
The sky -- dark, lonely, grey,
keeping at bay the evils
hidden behind the old bar doors.
Scarecrows stand, rigid and cold,
filtrating the air
with their putrid smell,
but their faces remain
as horrible as they ever were
in their beginning.
The dust rumbles through
the musky air of the mind.
Through a cloud
of murky mind tricks
bursting through
the little, insignificant town,
like a gust of a strong wind gone evil,
flies a single yellow daisy,
carried by a wind of hope.
Finally some sunlight
gratefully intrudes
on my own little town.
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� 1999 Beverly Greene owns all rights to this original poem.
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