Here’s a short write-up based on your prompt “Searching for sunflower in—”
…a field that once blazed gold, now gone to seed and silence. Searching for- sunflower in-
You stop. Kneel. You don’t pick it. Some things are not meant to be taken—only found. Here’s a short write-up based on your prompt
Searching for sunflower in late autumn is an act of stubborn hope. The stalks stand like skeletons, leaves curled into fists. The birds have long since taken their fill. Still, you move forward, brushing dry husks from your sleeves, listening to the rattle of the wind through empty centers. you move forward