Sunflower

The sunflower stretched With its stalk and its neck As far to the sky As it could – reaching high, Pushing its golden face With clumsy, awkward grace Trying, with all its might To reach the highest height That it could ever muster So it could be like Custer Or like a grand ole redwood (I think it thought it could) It reached into the atmosphere Inhaled the biting air Looked about in wonderment High above the firmament But slender was its frame It did not have the strength To stand as so unaided – It weakened, and degraded It towered, then bent over, It leaned a little lower And found the earth up close Had just as much to boast As did the open sky It wondered at up high – And thereto did it stay Forever and a day A little bit hung over As if it lost its lover Or better yet, had found Upon the hallowed ground Some cosmic explanation About its situation Which held it in its thrall High above it all And made its hanging there That much easier to bear –