A Walk sun the bin

You are a daffodil, yellow like the
sun
.
or an emoji.
Hearts on your sleeve and chest and even forehead.
I should know because I've seen it first hand,
or back hand.
When it was better and we felt like going outside to meet people and when you weren't so afraid of that wall.
This week I have walked everyday to Wittgenstein's grave.
And I always find daffodils growing out of it.
Then I think of you, and the fact that I haven't really read any of his philosophy.
I don't know if you did either, but frankly that doesn't matter.

There is a grave next to his that reads "She hath done what she could".
But the weather reminds me of long bike rides and sitting on the grass.
Maybe miscommunication, or lost in translation, or just forgotten.
I have heard the cows from the basque country moo differently.

All around me now are piles of tissues.
And I keep going out to
the bin
, just to be outside. 
I wonder if our neighbor is catching on. 
I wonder what was true for me.