When I last came to see you, the daffodils on your road were in full bloom. When I next see you they will be fading. I wrote this in anticipation of that sight.

When I came back to see you
The daffodils were dead
Their brown and withered corpses
Were cowered there instead.

Oh how those fallen flowers
With bulbs alive and true
Evoke the strength, come spring or fall,
Of what I grow with you.