Last week, all this patch of ground held
was a blanket of last year’s leaves.
Nothing more. And I can’t tell you
what woke them. But here they are,
baby daffodils with fat yellow buds
ready to bloom, all full of laughter,
as if they know that they caught you
by surprise. How do they know
how to do that? How do any of us
know when and how to slide
from the darkness and show
the world our light?