That summer she turned sixteen
her hair flowed down her back
shimmered in the afternoon light
she told everyone to call her Sunflower
and wore long cotton dresses
that clung to her skin in a storm
It’s a phase people said
she’ll grow out of it
but her parents worried
her older sisters ignored her
and her younger sisters
thought she walked on air
As if the laws of gravity
did not apply to her
she was a Sunflower
beautiful, open
trusting, naïve
loving all people and things
Not even the growing baby
shot into her belly like a cannonball
by that angry, rebellious boy
would weigh her down
she was a Sunflower
Tall and Vibrant
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