Daffodil

“And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.” 

William Wordsworth, “I Wander’d Lonely as a Cloud”

She warms the frigid day
 
with herself—
 
          Spring’s harbinger,
 
                    Earth’s dream—
 
nods her shining crown
 
as passers drift by— 
 
          thought-lost,
 
                    winter-lone—
 
when in her breezy two-step
 
she shimmies over
 
          to their cold-darkened
 
                   souls, sweeps them
 
into her arms.