The bedroom’s closed, shut; the sapling huddled on the floor near the entrance – a glimmer of light under the door. It’s from far off.
… the dirt, the dirt …
Then she felt a warm breeze and something stirred. Slowly uncurling, stretching, arms up, the door opened, sunlight, benevolent being.
The green stalk broke through the earth; a cold snap made the yellow flower cringe for a moment, but THEN the heat returned.
And the Daffodil unfolded its petals [fingers] and looked me in the eye.