am i seeded
or buried

forest floor or headstone above me?

the distant daffodils,
stoic sentries, craning for Sun

at the edge

offer no answer/s to my dark, muffled query

germination and decomposition

indistinguishable,

in the beginning

indistinguishable,

at the ending

in Spring’s cold soil

shaded,

unrelentingly,

by clouds or canopy.