Golden Titans
I like sunflowers
I like the beauty
caught in one frame
suggesting
everything in the name—
and again,
not.
the brown dial
patterned, watching—
nothing like
the blistering lemon
staring down
on my summer days
the ray petals
beckoning,
undulating
in the wind
swishing—
the Titan stems
reach
for the sky
towering,
steady
offering
a quiet nod
without breaking
hairy stalks
prickly
against my skin
bear grand leaves
gathered
into a shield—
waiting
to defend
An army
standing guard
to weather
a perceived attack
banded together
facing
the sun.
standing strong,
blooming—
not cut from their stem,
captured,
to die
alone.
