“Is there an other world,” the
daisy asked,
I nod my head and dance to the sun
but really, all I can see is me.
I don’t exist because of who I am,
I exist because you named me:
if you weren’t here, if I wasn’t there
then where would I be?”
“That other place,” the fog
replied
as it slithered across the skin,
seeped into every grassy hair,
fed tables that lay within.
“That other place where no one
goes,
where no one’s been before
except, of course, for these and those
and the ones in between less and more.”
“Can I visit them?” the daisy
asked,
as she sang her little song.
“Don’t hurry God,” the fog
replied,
“He’ll send you there ere
long.”
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