Another long week almost over, and for those of us in DC, a forecast of warm sunny weather all weekend long. I’m excited to check out Yoga on the Mall tomorrow for the first time (kicking off DC’s annual Week of Yoga, wherein yoga studios all over the city offer free and $5 classes. Pretty sweet).
In honor of the apparent turn to summer, here’s a poem about one of the summeriest things I know of. I hope you all have a great, relaxing weekend.
Sunflower
by Frank Steele
You’re expected to see
only the top, where sky
scrambles bloom, and not
the spindly leg, hairy, fending off
tall, green darkness beneath.
Like every flower, she has a little
theory, and what she thinks
is up. I imagine the long
climb out of the dark
beyond morning glories, day lilies, four o’clocks
up there to the dream she keeps
lifting, where it’s noon all day.
Recent Comments