Sunflowers Dying In Thrall To The Sun…
Wizened and withered,
The tall stalks bent,
Hunched like infantrymen entrenched
In sodden uniforms and driving rain
At the Somme in World War One…
Regimented and gathered,
Their short lives spent,
Heads hang in shame, all colour wrenched
From faces in the early autumn strain
Of French fields: the flowers of the sun…
And their swollen faces bulged,
Like rusted cannon shot,
With seeds inside indulged
Until harvesting would stop the rot…
Pete Ray
28th September 2022
Boisson, Gard, France…
Sunflowers dying, awaiting the harvester…
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