The sunflower, yellow-rayed,
had forced its way between
the ulna and the radius,
inclined its head
and let its myriad seeds
spill from its matrix there
into the stainless steel of waiting palm
all but concealed
beneath a wave of brambles. Never
did steel look flimsier,
nor more appropriately placed.
Prosthetic limb among the fallen limbs
of silver birch, ground-hugging
creepers and a hug of leaves,
its pin-thin pistons
and twin cylinders
caught flecks of sun
to make it visible -
and kith to all those creepers
creeping over it.
It might have rooted,
might even have forsaken
its technology,
and gone to earth again -
from whence
all things derive.
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12 comments:
Dave,
A wonderful story of the resolve which can always amaze, only found in the garden. The determination of life to succeed, even if in 'the wrong bed'......
Eileen
I enjoy your play on words here, Dave, the garden, the human body and all things prosthetic. So resonant.
what a wonderful theme and the lines... :) liked it...
I read this very literally and found it rather pleasing.
I agree with Elisabeth.
Well played, very strong.
And me? I will agree with Jabblog.
Wow, very powerful indeed.
I'll just be lazy and agree with all five of the previous comments.
A tremendous visionary work with a stunning, powerful conclusion in the last three lines.
Very powerful and enjoyable :-).
Eileen
Good to have your response. Yes, I agree. Life in all its forms is indomitable.
Elisabeth
Glad to hear you liked it. Thanks for saying so.
Muhammad
Thanks as ever. Great to hear from you.
jabblog
You read it as intended. Encouraging to hear your response. Thanks.
The Unknowngnome
Thanks for the confirmation.
Mary
Seems like there's an agreement building here! Good to know its positive.
ArtistUnplugged
Hi, good to have you visiting. Thanks for the kind response.
JeanetteLS
Lazy doesn't bother me, I can live with that. Many thanks for it.
Tommaso
My! T%hanks for that very generous reply.
Windsmoke
Very much appreciated. Thanks.
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