I am a yellow flower.
Alone, bright, in-your-face noticeable.
For a toddler's hands to pluck me from my sidewalk crack home
And tuck me in their soft hair.
At the playground,
On asphalt so faded it is gray...
Sing to me a poem about a yellow flower,
And cup me in your small, happy fingers.
So I will fall into you,
And you fall into me,
I will be your yellow flower.