Our daughter gave a shape to the puzzle. First, she fit together pieces of the border's tall wall, green stalks and cordate leaves. She worked inward till the picture was complete. Faces of sunflowers golden and brown, each Helianthus annuus, the common sunflower, followed a light swallowing emptiness, the centers ripe and whorled and filled with immigrant tongues and suffering. They swelled, then, with seed. Hectoring squirrels bent heads down. Starlings fretted at lips. She learned to find what came at her by sound and touch and scent. In the photograph I saw the leaving, budded then blooming into the wind.
4 replies on “Sunflowers”
Thank you, Sayuri! I’m grateful that Literary Mama helps mothers explore the lives of our families. And I appreciate that you have been a valuable part of the Salon poetry group giving us feedback as we shape our poems!
Lovely poem. The “light swallowing emptiness” is really beautiful!
There is so much to unpack, the sunflower metaphor is really intriguing. Borders, Blindness, defending the self, this is my first read-through, and I look forward to coming back to this this evening to do more sleuthing.