consider the sunflower
with her black eye
watching the bees buzz and dance
with a sort of eclectic wonder
in the way she lazily sways with the breeze
as though she was floating
and, always, with an eagerness to listen
to the song-like preaching of the sun
wrapped up in the curled grass
or the way she hangs her head
at the early signs of dusk
when the sunlight goes swimming off into the horizon
while the moonlight stretches its black robes over the field
as she settles into a melancholy
waiting for the dawn to return.
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 10:52 PM UTC
consider the sunflower
with her black eye
watching the bees buzz and dance
with a sort of eclectic wonder
in the way she lazily sways with the breeze
as though she was floating
and, always, with an eagerness to listen
to the song-like preaching of the sun
wrapped up in the curled grass
or the way she hangs her head
at the early signs of dusk
when the sunlight goes swimming off into the horizon
while the moonlight stretches its black robes over the field
as she settles into a melancholy
waiting for the dawn to return.
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