“Her daddy Mr. Dalton, often said he suspected, when you died you went to live on Mar’s, that’s what Mr. Dalton said!”

She flounders a small woman by the side of the ruin, an altar she built as a child to the moon. A place near the Valley Springs. Alone, maybe a moonlit dream, near the swing her daddy built, it’s the end of October but still. In all of her books and fantasies, at her advanced age could she believe. She’s alone now, quaking inside from a breeze, that comes from the hollow north, near the fork in the valley, floor, where…

She kissed every star in the sky when she was sixteen, my, my, and why, did her tears fall, she thought she would be so much more. And fortune, held her against her view, wouldn’t let her become something new. Be an actress on the stage, of course her daddy said that’s okay. You’re in the valley, the hills are your home, so now…

She’s one hundred, dancing without a cane, near the oak where she had her first date, ate a picnic that she had spun, from honey, and buttermilk buns, considered the eyes of a fella, the one, who left her in 44, went to Mexico to avoid the great war. To the stars and the moon above, what’s below is still not known, in conceived she still must trust, in the…

Spirit, of water that runs nearby, the family ground on which her daddy died, the hollow north where her sisters knit, crafting magic from all they give, and all around her fall does move, singing songs that only she knew. In her heart Daisy lives on Mars, her imagination takes her so far, from the valley that she loves, takes her character, becomes brand new, dies tonight, because she…

Always knew, she’s going to leave home soon, resurrect herself by common luck, join her daddy, and sisters who say now, it’s not so bad being lights in the dark, incandescent, just like the moon, out in air traveling to and fro, come on Daisy it’s time to go, little Daisy it’s time to go.

“Her daddy Mr. Dalton, often said he suspected, when you died you went to live on Mar’s, that’s what Mr. Dalton said!”

In memory of my great Aunt Daisy, small in stature, bountiful in spirit, who still visits me in magic from time to time from Mars. – 10.30.2016 – דָּנִיֵּאל