It's the simple things and small memories
that give us our greatest comfort
and cause our quills to write.
I sense you saw their vulnerability
yet they supported one another through
the storms of life. Great write.
Little yellow flowers in drifting shadow breeze they heave and swell, fragrant in Suns hue their radiance flows to dwell. Daisies or daffodil? Does it not matter to name apart that which intrinsically brings comfort to an open and willing heart. A beauteous poem and I can see those flowers and their gleaming butter smile. Lovely.