How they share our
desires, shape
our days.

Passion to hope,
fingertips to
lips. Some bud

easily, others
struggle. A little
water, light, a kind

voice. Sometimes so
little achieves
so much. Yesterday’s

sunflower droops on
the sill. Today’s promise
arrives with rain.


57 thoughts on “Flowers

  1. nice. I especially like:
    How they share our

    and the last lines:

    sunflower droops on
    the sill. Today’s promise
    arrives with rain.”

    which could easily stand on its own.


  2. I’ll make a pitch for “sometimes so / little achieves / so much.” Almost felt the ghost of A.R. Ammons, who I think visits my desk from time to time, patting me on the shoulder in agreement with my smile as I read this.


  3. Oh how I love flowers-am especially crazy about wild flowers, flowers in unusual places,flowers along the highways…your poem brings a nostalgic feel to my senses of sight and touch, and the refreshing of the rain; the drops on the leaves, definitely a promise of hope!:)


  4. …i started writing poetry at 4…my father called me a lone wolf, derisively he being a fundamentalist evangelical Ass(emly) of God Peotestant…anyway, fo do workshops – it offends my romantic sense of the Muse we follow our Ancient Muse…BUT! marc adores the zen waters in your poetry & is profoundly honoured u find anything beautiful in the meaderings of my baroque imagination! gassho! noble warrior! ~~~~^^*^^~~~~ (we r guessing ur semiotic mind gets these private hierogyphics) -marc


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