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

I’d thrive on unexpected street corners
unnoticed by passersby
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

Susana Rinderle

photo (c) Susana Rinderle, 2015

4 thoughts on “Sunflower

  1. I love this. I felt a strong “Me, too! Me, too!” surge reading this as it voices how I, too, have been feeling — particularly this month. Also, I realize how deeply personal and internal these transformations & feelings can be, BUT from where I stand, you are ALREADY my sunflower friend!

    • Thanks Kim! I wrote this during my bad depression last month. I’ve loved yellow wildflowers — especially yellow daisies and sunflowers — since I was a child. I saw some perky ones on a corner of Lead and somewhere near Nob Hill and was inspired by them. I’m definitely feeling more sunflower-y now! 🙂

  2. A gentle reflection—thanks for sending it on.

    Made me think: sunflowers (des tournesols) were a big thing in Tunisia, huge farms—as a food crop—the seeds were an important fast food for many, esp. adolescents.

    You could use the sunflowers as a sundial as the day passed, they moved together, but not fast enough to be visible…

    Sold in bulk with the husks on—in a movie with kids, it could sound like muted machine guns going off, as they removed the husks IN their mouths, and spat out them out & ate the inner seed—friends of mine from the States went to a Vampire movie in Tunis, and loved the background noise from the sunflower seed (des glibettes—nice term, no?) eaters all around them. Others didn’t!


    H >

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