Starting to Understand

A giant sunflower appeared in my garden in space carved through grass and dirt long before I arrived

I’ve planted bulbs here twice in autumn when planting feels melancholy knowing there’s nothing they need from me in winter

I didn’t grow this sunflower but I didn’t kill it either

Some weeds demand respect with stems so thick and strong you question what you’ve been told

I went away for weeks to see the sister whose voice held me in quarantine

Came back to a being taller than me by a foot My eyes looking up

to a cluster of tough green leaves

steadily opening

I hope for flowers

born of seed carried by bird or wind to earth outside the door

I live in awe of a giant sunflower I did not plant

Thinking about seeds and what we kill and how I ever called this garden mine