Like a Daisy in the Desert
Like a daisy in the desert,
I am placed in a mold, not moving i sit.
I am flattened like lichen, and I hurt.
Like I am not at all here in the least bit.
I will reproduce like the dandelion,
you watch me. . . .
Keep time with a tarnished pseudo-Rolex.
Its green like ourselves wanting
to be real, true to ourselves, true to God.
We want to be a skyscraping sequoia,
Towering over everything we see,
in California.
It would be hard, but so will I be.
About the author
I live with my wife, an artist, in Indianapolis. Besides poetry, I like to take photographs, read books, travel overseas, and listen to news/political podcasts, college lectures and classic literature. You can read about my approach to poetry on my poetics page. To stay in touch, follow me on Twitter or connect on a variety of other social networks.
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