Growing up in the country

The ditches of the county roads

Were lined with sunflowers

This time of year.

Maybe that why I’ve always loved Sunflowers.

Who doesn’t.

It’s hard not to smile

When you see one.


For some unknown reason.

I’ve never been able to grow them.

I would plant the seeds


And nothing would happen.

I blamed birds

For dining on each and every seed.

Leaving nothing to sprout.

That all changed last year.

Somehow smack in the middle of a crepe myrtle

That John had carefully nursed into life

A sunflower sprouted

Then grew

And grew.


I guarded it carefully

In case John chose his shrub

Over my flower.

Both survived.

The Sunflower bloomed as it towered above

Everything else at the east end

Of the garden.

I let it go to seed

To provide lots of food for those birds.

They must have felt guilty

For all those years of wiping me out

And they left a little patch of seeds.

The result is a Sunflower jungle

Growing wildly.


I pulled several of the volunteers

But a half-dozen or so survived

And are now somewhere around 12 feet tall

So loaded with buds and blooms

That the slightest wind or rain

Renders them horizontal.


Combine this with the forsythia

And Viburnum

At this end of the garden

And you would think that no one

Tends this garden.

Yet I can only bring myself

To cut just enough for bouquets.


I’ll just think of it as

The “wild child” end of the garden.

And let it be for now.

Some things just need a little grace.



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