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. B ut 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.