Heliotropic

 

In the evening light the dove's undersides
look yellow, and the bush that grows along
the porch has flowers red as a tanager's back.

At dinner, hummingbirds come to press needle-

beaks into trumpet-blossoms, the music

of their work drowning our conversation.

Why would anyone forsake this gospel of beauty?

Consider the bees covering the heads of sunflowers,

the sunflowers turning to follow the light.

When the world is pink, and the sun has begun

to sink to the other side of the earth, we walk

into fields tall with goldenrod to pick the daisies

my grandmother called moon-pennies, until the dark

makes it hard to see, and we must search for the light

glowing in the windows of the house to guide us home.

--Todd Davis