I wish I were a sunflower
face always turned
towards the sun
back always turned
on the shadows
I’d grow eager and hearty
in weak soil
unplanned
uncomplaining
I’d thrive on unexpected street corners
unnoticed by passersby
unadmired
uncaring
spirit undampened
My perky summer mane
of auburn golden petals
would seduce bumblebees
velvet sable upon amber
delicious reciprocity
Although my looks eventually desiccate
their colors would linger vivid
gilded finches feeding
from my smiling autumn face
satisfying generosity
No need to over-rely
on my bright disposition
to get by
No need to talk myself
into acceptance or trust
No thoughts of “must”
No need to convince myself
of the wisdom of seasons
the rightness and reason of Will
beyond mine
When the harvest sun waned
I’d nod off and droop
letting go my final seeds
with a contented sigh
ready to sleep til spring
when my neck stretches again
jaw yawns
and face turns
towards the sun
back always turned
on the shadows.
© S. Rinderle, 2015