Poetry in Spring

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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.



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