Revisionist Poetry – “Good Morning ” – Downward Glance, v.3

There’s a whole field of sunflowers doing the usual —
faces up, sun-chasing, like they all agreed on the plan.
But you? You tilt your head down like you’re shy or thinking.

I walk closer. You don’t make a fuss; you just open,
petals folding back like pages, the center humming a little light —
not loud, just enough to make me stop.

Around us they lean together, a crowd with the same habit;
you stand a beat apart, keeping your small glow to yourself.
It’s weird and kind of beautiful, the way you won’t perform.

You make me slow my steps, put my hands in my pockets,
and for a second I feel like I found something I wasn’t looking for.
I’ll probably forget the exact angle of the field tomorrow,
but I won’t forget that quiet light — it’s the kind of thing I tuck into my day.