The garden spreads a fire of green

and at its end she stumbles

upon a sizzling sunflower,

its flower fiery, its seeds

and fruits a burnt brown.

She turns back toward green

stalks, sepals, stamens,

lowers her head to avoid

the flower’s gaze towering overhead.

She evades the heavy sticks of sun

burning a halo atop her head

by envisioning a round oval,

a praying turtle in a goldfish bowl.

Collecting spit beneath her tongue

until a salty warm drink emerges,

she coughs on the air trapped in

her body’s long pipes as it dribbles down.

With a sideways glance, drinking in blue,

she imagines white, touching fingertips

to the tops of petals, gliding palms

over the tickle of pistils.