Daffodils

When I lie on my couch, all I can see of me is my feet.

Happens, I enjoy looking at them.
Soles meet

when I cuddle them softly
together, brushing the hem
of my bathrobe. Well, I can see my knees

and shins too. Whom else do I see?
Foregone ancestors, though I’ve never met them.
My soles will meet

the floor in due time, but for a while I can lie here
and imagine others who had my slight, fem-
my build. God chose them. Their feet

walked the earth till their time was complete.
Perhaps they thought that loving themselves was wrong,
but my soul

believes theirs glowed like mine in the restful
morning light. In future times, beloved others will behold them.
When I lie on my couch, all I can see of me is my feet.
Souls meet.