dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: sunflower

the sin we’ve sown
chokes as it blooms
bright yellow,
its dark face mocks the sun

the skin we’ve grown
shifts with weight
and worry,
and wisdom doesn’t keep
the wrinkles away

the wind we’ve known
lifts grime and treasure
with the same late whistle
to which trees, grass, and legs
tremble and sway
like ticks holding on
to skin and blood


memories face the clouds
still velcroed,
unsalted,
stubborn
sunflower seeds
straining higher.
millions of dark eyes
waiting for the hour
their namesake
will appear,
unaware their petals’ flames
are the beauty to be matched.