I
knew the moment I saw her:
tall,
defiant, green
in a dry
Crack
of hot
black asphalt;
that
something was different here.
Built
of some inner, ancient DNA to survive.
four
weeks of drought,
No water, no rain, just
38C SUN.
She
grows straight to the sun;
never
Deigning at the paucity
that surrounds
her feet.
Oh
no, her stance is unflinching
against
the oncoming traffic and
fumes.
“How
is that possible?” they wonder.
But the
sunflower does not concern itself
With thoughts
of the earth.
Her focus is to the sky, for high is
where
a bright, yellow short life
begins
and belongs.
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