Daffodil Hill

detail of painting on textile

When I was in High School

There was a place on the grounds I would go called DAFFODIL HILL.

I went there to reclaim myself

During days of mind-numbing


With too many girls (girl’s school..)

I smoked pot there,

Laid down alone

Or with a boyfriend

But mostly alone.

I stretched out

And closed my eyes

To let the fragrance

Of yellowness

Take me.

Hiding in the middle

Of this riot of



I let dogs

And their owners pass me by.

I kept still and held my breath

So not to be discovered.

I let English class,


And History

Survive without me

And the most movement I could manage

Was to cross my legs

At the ankle

And prop my head up

Away from the damp. dark ground.

I became yellow.

And hummed the tune

I thought the bendy stems

Might enjoy.

I was happy then..

And now am still..

Remembering the liquid sunlight

Pouring on me,

Holding my hidden self

There, in the new dirt

And innocent grass

Long ago,

On Daffodil Hill.


3 Responses to “Daffodil Hill”

  1. Carol S on April 17th, 2011

    Hmmmmm….sounds like a good day on Daffodil Hill….nice to escape back there, if only in your mind.

  2. Elisa on April 17th, 2011

    yellow and daffodils shout that word…….and so does your blog!!!

  3. Laura Hegfield on April 19th, 2011

    “the fragrance of yellowness”…exquisite!

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