Late bloom - pc-p22

postcard: Thurso
poem: Sara Teasdale (1911) - Wild Asters

In the spring I asked the daisies
If his words were true,
And the clever, clear-eyed daisies
Always knew.

Now the fields are brown and barren,
Bitter autumn blows,
And of all the stupid asters
Not one knows.

Another charity shop find was today's postcard. It went to the mother of two young boys who are train-mad. Need I say more?

I was surprised, when I found out how old the poem was. It feels very contemporary to me.

NaPoWriMo - my version of it; sending a postcard-poem each day of November. Here is the how.