Just outside the Native American Trading Company, they caught my eye. Miniature daffodils, not 6 inches tall. Squeezed into a slit of ground between building and sidewalk.
I’ve been editing all weekend. The world beyond my window is far away; my eyes want to close.
Somewhere in Dan Simmons’s Hyperion and Endymion series, the once-human creatures that fill the void of space declare themselves: “We will adapt. We will fill the universe with life from end to end.”
Just so: the new thing
grows just outside our vision,
waits for us to wake.