Yellow Flowers

Yellow Flowers

Helianthus

This September on the southside of the city

in the dirt between old pasture and strip mall

a cacophony of yellow flowers open

brilliant lemon-gold gleaming in sunlight

filling the vacant lot beside the rodeo grounds.

Driving by I see a hand-painted sign for the Shrine circus

here where I last saw my father turn in

and park.

A year ago today he drove out into the world

to shake hands and smile beside elephants and camels,

trapeze artists and bellowing men with big mustaches.

He collected tickets that night at the gate to the big tent.

I had forgotten about yellow. Forgotten butter, autumn aspen

joy, the brass sheen on a cresting wave.  Now I recall

my father’s circus.

Wild sunflowers bloom in the disturbed earth

Maximilian daisies in every ditch and abandoned lot

asters in every acre impacted by cattle, by roadway, by

the jackhammer of progress, beside bulldozers

here where

I last saw my father turn in and park,

a sunflower                              in final bloom.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s