poem of the day April 13

Shenandoah Valley

so poignant pretty in spring

Full of giant crosses

churches and ghosts

Fields of daffodils

line the highway

in random clusters

like fallen soldiers 

on an American battlefield

Time has infused dead souls

in every blooming flower

But one small ring of daffodils

sat all alone on a lonely hillside 

different from all the rest

appearing as perfection

A circle so round 

it must have been planted

by God to give us hope

that there is a path

greater than another civil war