A Sunflower's Suffering

December 31, 2008
By Heba Jahama, Wayne, NJ

My sunflower flourished in his each hello,
It cringed in his every goodbye.
Its leaves were the curve of his delicate lips,
Its water: his undying smile.
My sunflower throbbed in his chocolate-brown eyes,
It cherished the sound of his voice.
It fluttered whenever he whispered my name,
And when he felt happy, rejoiced.
My sunflower lived for his some-day’s return,
It followed his dwindling scent.
It pined for his velvety, cinnamon skin,
And envied wherever he went.
My sunflower’s petals are withered and frayed,
It has but a thin, tawny stem.
Its leaves have gone dry from the tears that it’s cried—
It has wilted waiting for him.


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