the faces of daffodils — Rob Plath

in the cemetery walking alone
i knelt down to photograph
the daffodils
when i heard voices
“aren’t they beautiful?”
it was two old ladies
walking down the path behind me
“yes,” i said
we started talking
at a distance
a human triangle
among the stones
we discussed the trees
& the flowers
& the birds
“they don’t ring the bells
anymore,” i said
“that’s true,” one responded
“the church is closed”
we talked a little more
& they walked off
but i heard one say
“what’s that leonard cohen
song about the bells?”
the friend shrugged
“ring the bells that still can ring”
then she skipped a line she’d forgotten
but continued
“there’s a crack in everything
that’s how the light gets in”
my heart jumped
“anthem,” i said
“he’s my favorite” i added
the old lady smiled two rows over
“ i call him papa cohen,” i added
“that’s very sweet,” she said
then they waved goodbye
& i kept walking thru the rows
as the late afternoon sun
shone down bright
upon the faces of daffodils
& for a few seconds i forgot
what a black spring this is

Rob Plath is a writer from New York. He has published 22 books and a ton of poems in the small presses ov the last 26 years. He is most known for his monster poetry collection A Bellyful of Anarchy. He lives with his cat and tries his best to stay out of trouble.