I hold a sunflower in my heart,not in golden bloom, but filledwith small, dry seeds,a desiccated husk of a disk, brittleand brown. I hold it hereas a reminder some giftslook unwanted at first.I remember the autumn afternoonI went to pull the dead remainsfrom the garden, then watchedas the Stellar’s jays landedatop the tall dark stalksand […]
