Thursday, September 21, 2017

Hap


For the burdened sunflowers
squirrels sail hectic, are hardscrabble
on the tilting platters,
gnashing away from the giant crooks
the back of the plates' pith matter.

The youthful plumb was matched by surge
inch a day in summer: the quiet
pollination like hope and faith.
But now omega's thief,
the racket that is joy, like acorn rain,

like the riverbed of dying salmon
having spawned - rags and din
and bent nails. What a circumspect dirge
if frisky gold opened on the bees and fire
manes flickered in the breeze, and they went on

continuing, unchanging yellow sunflower,
and the heads were never brained,
and never like strung bows
bent intense with black dilation,
no spiders linked their prostration;

the very sky would seem a staid
blockage, those eyes seeing just themselves;
what heart stab if their leaves never frayed,
nor their poles strain seed down
in fall, inch a day.

3 comments:

Itinérante said...

I wanted to get some sunflowers the other day!
Have you ever planted these? are they easy to grow?

Belfry Bat said...

... Here's a lovely page;

it sounds like they need a good supply of phosphates and fixed nitrogen. (which makes sense, as they've a lot of building to do... corn is similarly demanding, with the extra complication that you usually have to feed it lysine--- Huron farmers used fish) The pH conditions means your soil shouldn't be too chalky or ashy (pH > 8), and they won't grow as well near pine woods (pH < 6).

BrightSoul said...

Lovely imagery. .i could see this scene in my minds eye. A true Fall palate to savor. Stress just peels away as light enters the quiet place in the soul. Thank you for this gift of word beauty!