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Sunflower
beckons—
from the roadside,
the corral,
the flower beds,
the edges
of everywhere.
Whether the weather—
dry, wet;
doesn’t matter.
Insects—
thin, black caterpillars,
big, juicy grasshoppers—
can’t bring them down.
Sunflower thrives.
Climbing six, seven feet
high,
producing more leaves
than flowers,
but enough to drop
jillions of seeds
and guarantee ancestors,
winter bird food,
sunflower
blankets the land,
beckons:
Pay Attention:
I thrive
here.

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