I wait (selfishly)
For my sunflowers to grow.
After a long winter,
watching sunlight
dappled on dancing leaves
that once shuddered to the beat
of (Wind, Rain, Perpetuity)
Nature
in motion.
I spy
(patiently)
at the sprouts and seedlings,
Willing them-
Asking for the sixteenth time
From the back seat
(my couch)
Are we there yet?
Taking offence at the
steady dripping cadence of time,
Forgetting the lessons
I buried in the early spring.