thoughts of an absent friend

zinnia, are you a sunflower
or a daisy? you are no rose,
yet your bloom is elegant. a
palette of pastel colors
aside from blue. you
are the messenger of
summer from sunrise to
sunset. you harmonize
with anna’s hummingbirds,
you shelter me from my
melancholy madness of
vain expectations for the
narcissus. zinnia, others
profit from your beauty,
a peasant worker in my
garden, honest only to
god, fearing not thunder
or the serpentine twister
slithering in the meadow.
your boldness attracts the
butterflies. in the victorian
language of flowers your
name means thoughts of
an absent friend. zinnia,
who do you wait for if not
for me? i have manipulated
your soil to germinate your
seed. come winter, you will
be an angelic bouquet for
my bohemian botanic lover.

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