NaPoWriMo #7

sunning3

she has asserted her place in this house,
sprawls there every afternoon
at the same time,
leaving behind both
play and stress,
whatever mess she made
of paper and string,
even the cushions left
to lure her into comfort;
she chooses, instead
all that she needs: a sill
wide enough, a window that
floods her with sun.

NaPoWriMo #3

Wintersowing
sunflower seeds
It starts early,
this need for green,
as the land waits
in white quiet.

We dream a riot
of leaves greening
in the sun, calling
color from the deep
of a bland landscape.

Sunflower seeds, sowed
sheltered from the frost,
release the hopes
of wintered hearts and
suddenly spring green.

“The sun, the sun, and all we can become.”
(Theodore Roethke: What Can I Tell My Bones)