One Poem at a Time -15-

Parkinson’s disease made my Godfather look like he was bending down to listen to a shy child. He was slim and tall — 6’5″. He truly understood people, especially the “difficult ones” like me.  He was a source of comfort and strength when my parents passed away.  My protector.  And then one day he followed them into the beyond… My first reaction was to panic, until I realized he had given me the tools so that I could now make it on my own. I came across this poem and I keep it next to his picture on my dresser.  This one’s for you, Uncle Jud…

                                                                 -Lilly

Sunflower and Speedwell by Henry F. Weaver

A sunflower tall in a garden grew,
Bold and strong was his head,
And he grew by day, and he grew
by night,
He widened his stem and he lengthened
his height
And said, “I’ll never be dead.”

Yet a wind sprang up and shivered
his leaves —
It whispered a kindly tone —
Then it blew all day and it blew all
night,
And twisted his stem and shortened
his height
Till he lay in the garden prone.

Then every bloom in the garden saw
The sunflower broken and low,
And the snapdragon cried, “How quickly
he died!”
While a grub ate a hole in the stem’s
inside
When the wind had ceased to blow —

But a speedwell blue by the footpath
side
Piped a small speedwell eye,
For he knew when the heat of the
day was great
No more would the head of his big
tall mate
Come between him and the sky.

[Listen to an audio clip of Robert Duncan reading “Structure of Rime IV”]