my sunflower girl,
her modernist self-portrait
so true to her soul

my sunflower girl,
her modernist self-portrait
so true to her soul
when April snow comes,
she draws perfect silhouettes
before spreading soil
perfect skyline view
from this lonely bleacher seat
(as cold as your words)
best friends since kinder
ready to graduate now
(how could they grow up?)
even when we lose
he has won his only chance
to be part of this
ski season is done.
we’ll have to make do with yards
full of happiness.
our ski season ends
with bluebird jumps and peak views
(and a pinch of angst)
sometimes the night's lights
are only in the sunset
(not the soccer game)
a few last baskets
waiting for that hidden spring
only found in youth
dyeing our spring eggs
(her childhood reaches fall)
empty nest beckons