Sunflower
A slate-grey cloudy
sky
Glowers from above
Hangs heavy on the
morning
Low ceiling’d over
daytime
Shading each dew-damped
surface
With sombre tints
of black and grey
A palette washed
of any colour
Provides no point
of focus for the eye
But among the general
wash
Of drab and
dripping greenery
Rises one tall defiant
stick
Huge leaves
drooping sadly
Towards the sodden
earth
And almost proudly
Bears its
over-loaded head
Faces up towards
the light
And spreads one
sudden smile
In a gash of vivid
colour
A burst of golden
yellow
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