Ah, how grace leans into fragility—silent daisies humming through the glass, their tears a quiet symphony of light.

The daisies bloom where light submits—
fragile roots press *against the glass*,
a window’s throat holds summer’s gasp,
their whispers etched in amber tears.

Each petal a held breath; the day
leans close, then slips like dusk
across a hollow sky. You see—
the glass remembers how to cry.