Inside the house they’re tearing down
were frequent bouquets of daisies
picked up at the grocery store
arranged in a blue earthenware pitcher
that at other times held home-brewed iced tea.
The daisies fresh in their bright and yellow
shone forth on the kitchen table
and were refreshed over the week
with long draws of cold water from the kitchen tap.
These daisies if you were to press them
between thumb and index finger would bruise
and leave on your hand a fine yellow powder
that would remain until you rinsed them
under a cold stream at the sink.