Eleven Daffodils

by Meryl Natchez

What am I to make

of these daffodils,

perfumed strumpets, picked

who knows where

by who knows whom

possibly genetically

modified, commercially

fertilized, spritzed

with pesticide?

These questions did not arise

when I tossed

the budded stems

in my shopping cart

on a chill afternoon:

essence of spring

for a dollar twenty-nine.

Now they sit

and radiate scent,

molecules of daffodil

mixing it up

with molecules of oxygen

all about my desk

until I am dizzy

with this year’s crop

of praise

and regret.

* * * * *

“Eleven Daffodils” first appeared in Canary, Spring 2014.