Sunflower

by Tital Lacambra- Ayala

Poised to the sun, like warming of violence 

its neck arches subtly hiding there

whatever wistfulness it has from

the uninvolved eye. And its worship is gay
bedecked in reflected sunshine
honest as dress of green the coolness
of rivers. This is the plant of courage
growing rank among the stones (how well
it hides the bitter of its sap) preening
without pretence, loving itself as much
as the source of its roots and its ends
in whatever season or age, warming
november and december's gloom like,
wherever it can, a piece of sun.