Zen Sunflower

A sun­flower is grown tall
be­tween the path stones.
A month ago I paid it
no mind.
Now it sheds pol­len
in my hair. Come
here, chuck­ling bees.

6 thoughts on “Zen Sunflower

  1. i think that’s pos­si­bly the worst de­scrip­tion you could give your­self as a poet.

    and if ever given the choice, i would def­i­nitely put a poem of yours on my wall be­fore i would a tk paint­ing. 😉

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