Sunflower Daydreams
POETRY
In a saccharine summer haze, I confessed that I loved them. My mind at that moment was sure that I meant it. Really, it was reality detached dalliance with my contrived conception of them. My infatuation was unrequited, they informed me of that. However, their negations were nebulous, never “noes”, instead: “not yets”. I placed hope in their placations and ignored their indifference, content to spend my summer with a softened gaze and a set heart. Hard set, I sought to pretend and believe in a sunflower daydream. ***** Sunflowers have always been my favorite. Their radiant petals have long since invited my affection. Their proud, brilliant yellow enthrals my awe and anchors my optimism. In their yawning brown bloom I sense serenity. Similar in a sense to incense from a censer, a cloud of petals encompasses their dark center. When they said we shared the same fondness for sunflowers, a symbolic synapse sparked and their name became a sunflower synonym. Submerged in a sea of suspended disbelief, I scrawled for them the following stanza: Your smile I compare to a sunflower field brightness unyielded the warmth of an uncountable sum of sunflowers This scribbled sentiment was never sent to them; it’s a severed stem from my heart’s sunflower garden. It’s been soaking in water from when my heart was fonder and fading
27
CULLEN HARKINS
