For Joyce Summers, awoman deserving of flowers.
Without a Card
A simple bunch of wildflowers—
Yellow petals and white daisies—
Bound together without a card,
Only for the woman, gone—
Who made hot chocolate
And listened to his problems.
Who wasn't afraid
And never treated him like a freak.
Gently picked by moonlight
And delivered with reverence,
Then left on the walk,
Misunderstood, rejected, and scorned
By those more insensitive than she ever was.