Connie Wanek

(1952 -- / Madison, Wisconsin)

Daisies


In the democracy of daisies
every blossom has one vote.
The question on the ballot is
Does he love me?

If the answer's wrong I try another,
a little sorry about the petals
piling up around my shoes.

Bees are loose in the fields
where daisies wait and hope,
dreaming of the kiss of a proboscis.
We can't possibly understand

what makes us such fools.
I blame the June heat
and everything about him.


Submitted by Venus

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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Read poems about / on: june, sorry, kiss, hope, love, dream

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