‘Thus times do shift . . .’
- R. Herrick
Fair daffodils, we wince to see
How much they charge for you–
A hundred bucks per basket (plus
The tax) will soon be due.
Pay, pay,
There’s just no other way
For us
To set the festive tone
Our parents’ anniversary
Deserves since we have grown.
In private yards you’re out in force,
Whole hillsides thick with gold–
Enough for any gala brunch,
If only we were bold.
We sigh,
Resign ourselves to buy
A bunch
Of baskets for the bash–
And gripe that children of divorce
At least have got more cash.