Treasure Island

David McLansky

(5/24/1944 / New York City)

A Riff on David Wood's Daffodils


Daffodils bob on the hill,
The wind maintains its’ winter chill,
It turns their yellow heads to brown
And bends them early to the ground;

The tulips with a stronger will
Replace the drooping daffodils,
With florid heads they burst their buds
While daffodils lay in the mud;

Each flower reigns within its time
And from its glory then declines
And I a man of weathered reason
Stoop knowing I live out of season.

Submitted: Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 25, 2013

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Comments about this poem (A Riff on David Wood's Daffodils by David McLansky )

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  • Elaine Sept (3/4/2014 12:33:00 AM)

    I am ever so glad to have been here along the path in your season. It is a wonder to me!
    xoxo (Report) Reply

  • David Wood (5/2/2013 1:08:00 PM)

    A lovely poem that I enjoyed reading. Now wrote a riff on my Market Day; -) (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

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