Vincent’s Sunflowers

Even through the wildfires they’ve been 
there for a while now
saturated in swallowed sun. 
I’ve been waiting to see them 
wilt, give in, to time
but they’re still waiting for you–
their condition–
to brown them rotten, crisp them dry. 
Did you really think they were 
grateful?  
They’ve been looking up
they’ve been missing heaven–
Like son, like father
mortal sun, eternal flower.