king for a day

In the nursery hours
bright sway of May
in oak tree shade
at play
I gathered daisies
tipped them down
for you to string us crowns
before our time ran out.
I heard you hum a rhyme we learnt
as I tested your buttercup chin
and your eyes returned to the chain again,
till your arms raised high and I bowed low
to make me a king, to make me proud

I wonder where you are right now
for your bell still tolls so loud,
and when I see a fine oak stand,
alone, fingernail buds on hand
(one short breath from spring),
I see you flicker forth
like vintage film
to shush away my winter's end
and edge me nearer to the very start
where, as light as air, we fade and part

And I hope for just one day,
at least,
you were made to feel queen
by someone once
the way you did for me.