Poetry in Spring

My Finest Friend

by Tammy Smith

My finest friend you say? Well, It’s me.

I’m as distinguished as no other lily

An elusive ilk, and a bit spotty in spring,   

So perhaps you might miss me, you see.

But I am satisfied with the innocuous  me;

I must say, I suffice, for company

On a private blog chattering on about books

Or in a corpse pose chanting prayers for thee.