The Sunflower

 

Small pools of water dot the wood floor
Yellow petals swim in the pools
And ‘sun’ themselves on the polished oak
The long thick stems are far too rough
For the small hands determined to hold them


Mutilated, the fuzzy brown face of the sunflower
And its bright, yellow petals are strong temptations
They whisper to the child,
"Touch me! Hold me!”
Yet behind that gentle façade
Are sharp, stiff, green leaves
That poke and tear at delicate, young flesh
A sudden, heart-felt cry
Reverberates through the house
And down corridors of a young mother’s mind
Body in motion, she quickly learns to fly


An upturned vase lay on its side
Dripping its contents onto the floor
Three feet beyond sits a very wet, diapered child
Snot running down her nose;
Yellow petals sticking to her body



~ ~


Yellow petals that framed
A soft, fuzzy brown face
Atop a tall, proud stalk-
Just one in a sea of yellow, brown, and green
Standing valiantly, following the sun


From the moment she rises
To the second she sets
Their faces follow her
Never leaving her
Sacrificing their all for her
For love of her
Or because of it