Daffodils

Daffodils

My sister made some cut out flowers

Yellow daffodils, straw-stemmed

Hairy, plastic, mustard petals.

 

She put them in a drinking glass

Still stained with morning-milk

And half-filled up with dishwater

 

Her vase was then placed next to a vase

That held real daffodils, begging for a comparison.

Hers had been unequivocally better

 

The real ones were dried up by now

Their stems looked like chewed celery

Their pedals like yellow gift-paper.

 

  ~ Cole Hayley

Author's Note

For Suburbia.

Reviews

[Mockingbird]

i find beauty in dried flowers as well as when they were alive. brings to mind thoughts of mortality, how we age and die. it's petals.

[Pax]

Cole my friend, its nice to see you posting again, welcome back!
about this poem, it speak much of real to which isn't.... the comparisson about the two has a whole lot different... well i don't want to compare... for both has its own unique beauty... great job my friend.

[Dayran]

Art imitates life even in still life.

[Barbara Walker]

Love the image of the stems-...chewed celery, their petals like yellow gift paper. I can sense the love for your sister in this-I have a feeling you would search high and low for a flaw in the real flowers, pleasing your sister so much.

[Emerald Seas]

The comparison is sweet, yet full of melancholy. A Thoughtful write

[Sami Khalil]

A good comparison poem on the real and plastic...Good job...:)

[Sam Gregory]

This is most interesting, surreal in a way. A bit sad too, something about the comparison.