The Sunflower Turns Sexual

Click to enlarge.

They were the flowers I grew
in my mother’s garden.
Circular faces turning
to follow the sun, their
centers seemed seedless.

I planted them in a row
along the stucco wall
where my mother’s trellis
of sweet peas bloomed. When
the seeds turned black I pulled
them out, leaving a face
with no features.

One year I grew
a special sunflower,
larger than others,
bigger than I could believe.
Its head too heavy
to lean towards sun, it drooped
down like a penitent,
while we waited
for it to ripen.

There is no moral.
I kept growing sunflowers
until I was teenaged,
kept the memory
of that one summer
when the sunflower
grew larger than life.

Later I tried to grow them
in my own garden.
Birds ate the seeds from
the flowers while they grew
on their green stems.

Copyright by Carolyn Zonailo: www.carolynzonailo.com, 2004