Brigit's Flame April Week 2 Entry

[ghostofagypsy]

This one is doing double duty as both my NaPoWriMo poem for today (11/30) and my week 2 Brigit's Flame entry.

November Sunflower
Palms stretched out like horizons
absorbing the mid-day sun-
granules of hope settling into the creases.
There is no more fertile soil than her skin,

Her mother swallowed too many sunflower seeds
purchased in convenience store lines
on her March back home.
Because by November, she was holding the child-
a bloom out of season.

And she's always been this way- a bit too late.
She's been keeping her face to the sun,
that sinks earlier these days than it used to.

There is always something to seek,
and the evenings are much too dark
just after the blood red of the sunset
sinks behind the falling leaves of the maple trees.

But, she is rooted in optimism and grace-
petals reflecting what little light is left to shine.

You can always find her on an Autumn afternoon,
stretched out on the ground in the sun.
The girls has all she needs resting within her,
just like the seeds her mother ate so long ago
that birthed a sunflower who grows in hope.