sunflowers
the harvest moon sets
behind swaying sunflowers
their backs fronting stubbly gray posts
loosely arrayed in barbed wire
rusted iron trickling from wounds
proudly endured
patient
waiting in neglect
bright yellow posies
fleeing the prairie breeze
their arms and legs, complaint
ignored by ants
soothes the fox
troubles the raven
while the cosmic trickster
grins and turns up her collar
the inescapable season
of dying approaches
gay yellow faces
with oxblood mascara
turning from the rise of a new day
the east wind’s bite
portending a hard frost
when all but rust
and gray will blow away
RPW
September 2007
2 comments:
Bob, You have captured the essence of feathers and blooms in verse. The birds and the flowers resound! Byron Johnson
Bob - lovely photos - I love the Sun Flower poem - I can see another book of poems/photos coming from you soon! Thanks for sharing.
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