In the morning the merest TRACE will remain,
little bits of evidence, that WHILE the house
was still and quiet, I crept about like a little MOUSE.
A few toast crumbs on the counter, a used tea bag,
the cup still holding a few sips.
If you choose to see them, these clues will EVOKE
for you my restless night, my disrupted sleep,
while the heavy air and tang of OZONE
arrived before the storm.

Georg’ann

Oh DAISY, with reputation
for being fresh and delicate.
You, I would never choose
to GROUP in a garden bed.
No intrigue to your structure
Basic white petals to pluck
loves me loves me not.
No wafting scent of CLOVE.
Standing in perky oblivion
while OZONE settles in.

Heather