The Daffodils

         The Daffodils
 
Vehicles pass us on the interstate.
We are heavy-hearted, blank-faced,
and carry tension in the throat.
 
But then, we hit the hills—
yellow ruffles swell to welcome us,
blowing their trumpets. We smile.
 
It’s as if they rose out of the ground
to cheer us. We slow to round curves,
struggling to keep eyes on the road.
 
Prolific flowers lean and sway
as if performing like dancers.
Sighing grows small.
 
The buttery petals
—in bunches, circles, waves—
save us.

Now, I'm wondering if you have feedback for me.  Anything? Thanks.

Pat

Pat

I think the poem wants to be about flowers, and the poet wants it to be about the poet.

As an exercise, what about a revision (not one to keep, perhaps) where the narrator doesn't show up until the last stanza?

BTW:  Thank you for the reminder that I needed to post a poem AND offer critique.  I have had a busy few days.

Bless you all

Todd

Here is my rewrite: 

The Daffodils
 
Perky ruffles,
like yellow waves
flowing
and trumpets blowing.
 
Almost as if they should
pick up their feet,
line dance to Cowboy Cha Cha,
and sail away.
 
Now, that could make
a grieving couple
laugh.

Pat

Are there personal clues to the person you lost?  "perky"  "Cowboy"

I lobby for cutting "the" from the title.  Here's what I might cut in the original:

Daffodils
 
When, we hit the hills—
yellow ruffles swell to welcome us,
blowing like trumpets.
 
They rise out of the ground
to cheer us. Prolific flowers 

lean and sway like dancers.
Sighing grows small
 
as buttery petals
—in bunches, circles, waves—
save a grieving couple.

Right, I can let go of "The" in the title.

When I write perky, I was thinking of how the daffodils look.  They stand up straight and look alert and perky.  The man and woman were grieving from the loss of a 14 year old, a friend's granddaughter/ their friend, too.  Cowboy Cha Cha because they both love cowboy movies, played cowboys and Indians long ago.  It was a perky time for them.  

Trumpet because that's what the middle part of the daffodil bloom is called. 

I really like what you did with the last line.   

Thank you! I will look at your poem this afternoon.  Meanwhile, a storm is approaching.  -- 

Pat

Sorry I'm so late to the party. Your poem touched me too. I can see what Todd is saying with the poem wanting to be about the flowers, but the poet wants it to be about the poet. However, I really liked the first version. I liked being on the road with traffic passing. I liked hitting the backroads and feeling comforted by the flowers' beauty. I liked the "trumpet" play on words although I missed that until you explained why you used the word.

My feedback probably isn't too helpful this time, but thank you for sharing it. I'm sorry for your loss. It's especially tragic when it's someone so young. Saying a prayer for you now.