Indexing Irises

There's a band
of red
touched
by some yellow
the day is nearly dead
it glows
against the hollow
she's my flexible friend
all birds
they love to wallow
atmospheric , extend
right through
to tomorrow .

Horses
in the field
new dawnings
are to be
picked out
spectrum hills
adorned
by daffodills .

I look
and I find this  
my eyes a book
indexing , irises
looking up
to a higher place
but I'm stuck
by my fireplace
I bid you luck
finding your
happy place .