Dismal Dancing Daffodils, dying in hand. She tightly clutches, hanging downward, drunk in the sunlight.
Dirty canvas whites, and dingy shoe strings, she runs on.. Her ashy dusty knees mirror the playground field. Rubber tire bits hang from her shorts.
She runs on.. emphatically choking them.. she runs on..
Unconscious petals drift in the air.. Her sticky smile gleams bright.
“Mommy look! I brought you flowers.. Look! I got you the best ones.
Now, you won’t have to buy your own!”