Friday 30 October 2015

The Sunflower Head Harvest

The Sunflower Harvest

There is beauty in decay.
The sunflower's yellow cartwheel
Of summer is only a memory,
The heads bow now with seed,
Arching to scatter before
The harvesters' guillotine ends them.
The heads are sculptural,
A maze of chambers of precious
Progeny; brown, protective,
Muted in design, but generous.

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