#it's winter.

[flangg]

When crossing a bare field in spring,

   one fails to spot

      that it's never truly bare.

One misses all the daisies

over here

                  over there.

Or even when they do

   -see the white spots,

                        in between the grass and the rye-

They're taken for granted,

by each passer-by.

One should always remember

   -I already know I do-

No thing is as uncommon

      as a common daisy.