pile of dirt about a story high
when wind blows thick dust fly
and when it rain, mud flows by
it’s been there for a long time
birds bring seeds, children climb
i watch them on my break time

recently i notice it’s turning green
no dust flying nor mud flowing
children are back to school again
blanket of tiny buds start to bloom
waving as if i’m one of their own
i went closer to touch, too feel
absolutely beautiful, daffodil’s hill

i took a picture, keep it in my mind
i trace smooth ridges, that of feline
i saw you up there against rising sun
hair flowing, silk blowing, waving hand
ooh! slowly fading away one more time
then i heard ringing, four season chime.

… lol did you follow it, read it one more
time. come on … will you. thanks. ‘.md