between the dusty yellow pages
of a once-bestseller
I dried a memory
try hard as you might
you would not rush back through time
vivid memories flowing like the Niagara falls
as you held my dried and long dead Sunday daisy
we could have gone to the lake
remember the choices of youth?
we could have stayed in all day
playing dress-up with sheets and blankets
the trail by your father's ranch
it still leads to a field full of flowers
a different field
now that
Sunday daisies are gone
Author notes
g l a z e c o v e r e d
A contest entry
- 5 Day Round Contest: Sunday by crivanea.
400 points, ended September 21, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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ohhh...one of your best yet
very nice imagery in this one poet 
i see quite a bit...and it did touch some heart strings....nicely done here
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