Zinnia

the field is a constellation of colora vast universe dotted with petal’d starswhere harvesters buzz like beesarmed with scissorsfor take-home delightsthat don’t lastthe crystal autumn sky watcheswithout emotionthrowing down rays of dustto nourish the future,who buds in quiet industryin spite of the invading hoards This poem is about the field of zinnias at a pumpkinContinue reading “Zinnia”