Trading Swords


We fought with daffodil swords
That never stayed straight
With tips always drooped in defeat,
But it never mattered when daffodils scattered
And littered the grass at our feet.

All our hope we would place in a big red balloon
As we set it to sail for the sun,
But though it deflated, our hope was inflated
By the journey just barely begun.

To fight in defeat and to hope all in vain
Is the courage it takes to be young,
While words like “forget” and “never regret”
Are swords of an elderly tongue.

2018 © Sonya Annita Song

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