Yesterday, my alarm went off, I dragged myself out of bed,
felt the pain of an injury in a leg growing older,
washed, goodmorninged, hugged, ate, kissed, and climbed into the car.
Listening to the overwhelming headlines, I pushed the buttons
six times, still inundated, and then
pulled onto the long highway. A few miles in, out
of the corner of my left eye, I saw a flash of yellow.
It was a solitary sunflower,
standing tall and bright in between
the brown and gray metal dividers on the grassy median.
It was almost smiling.
I drove past and blinked, wondering: really?
And as the cars passed, it bobbed, happily nodding yes.