A horde of sunflowers
Grows on thin stalks
With big, bright heads
That tilt chin-upwards.
Could they stand so tall
And proudly if they weren't
Packed against each other?
When one bitch-slaps a sunflower,
One expects its head to fly
Clean off, but it just does
An angry little head bobble,
And goes about its business,
Looking skyward...
Though - occasionally - one breaks
Into a sad nod.
in an open field,
one sunflower towers,
its head drooping.
sunflowers look up
& follow the sun;
while amaranth bows.
Ah Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun:
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the travellers journey is done.
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow:
Arise from their graves and aspire,
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
sun to flowers,
“now that I have your
attention… shine!”
the sunflower
that bows its head in the sun
feels pensive.
weary sunflowers
turn their backs on the sun:
heads bowed.
summer sun so bright
the sunflowers take a break,
& turn backs to light.
a car slows, then pulls to the shoulder: sunflower field.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 