Poetry from Chloe Schoenfeld

Daisies

I lean against the window

And tune in to the frequency of the potholes in the road

The glass is cold and suspiciously sticky

The flower falls apart in my hands

Covering the skin in pollen

Grass tickles my sides

I sneeze and almost hit my head on the dinner table

My napkin falls off my lap and onto the carpeted floor

My reflection stares at me from the swirling glass of red wine

A car honks at the empty red light

The stoplight tells me to wait

My alarm sounds and I roll out of bed onto the floor

The sweat on my skin sticks to the wood

I lift my head up and look at the pile of flower petals

Overflowing in the trash can

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