you deserve a closer look.
More than cheeky lawn invader
or nostalgic chin shine player,
you shimmer your own sheen’s song
in miniature canary splendour.
Now I really see you, little sun,
I notice your distinction
among your companions
as you scatter gladly among the grass
in an earthbound constellation.
Standing tall, petals splayed
fiercely wide and free,
you are a five limbed leaper
held still in perfect, extended lines.
Your head thrown back,
abandoned to the sky,
as if you had forgotten
you were meant to be
any sort of cup at all –
while each of your neighbours
huddles and cuddles her petals close,
holding back her own perhaps-dance
in reticent, secret possibility.