All while the thirsty grasses dream the day.
Bend toward them. I can hear the tide of green
engorge and stiffen, music in the blood,
lifting sensation past the reach of time,
mingling with the future. Come, let’s turn,
let’s walk indoors and open up the house.
Sunday Sayings: And an extract of Peter Davison’s “Opening up” to pair with this photo of a windflower bud
PoetryPix 
This is lovely, Laura.
thank you Roberta – great poem and I especially like these buds
Yes, absolutely
Beautiful combination, I really love the colours on the photo; it feels to me movie-like, but retaining a plumpness of the curves.
very acutely observed so thank you – I do aim sometimes to adjust the colour to make it less ‘realsitic’ and more of a ‘portrait’