Seeds, Sunflowers, Helen Haskell Remien,

I scoop up sunflower seeds, traipse out back,
reach out to the feeder, flip off its cover,
pour thin seeds into the clear metal tube,
keep pouring until they spill over
onto the ground, until they cover my feet.
I once stood in the middle of a sunflower field
in Southern France, wearing my wedding dress.
I married a field of sunflowers that day,
a blossoming bride among those yellow blossoms.
And each morning, I carry it with me,
that field of golden faces, pour it into
my own backyard, even when it is gray
and France is far away, and I’m wearing
navy blue long johns and am only half -awake.

Reprinted with permission from Undone with Wonder by Helen Haskell Remien, copyright 2023.