Poem for the height our first sunflowers might have reached
by Erika Luckert
The seeds had said “mammoth”
on the packet, a promise
of prehistoric yellow light,
and so we waited from March
into June, sat alongside
the sprouts each morning, sipped
coffee while the plants grew
almost urgently, week by
week until they were sturdy,
strong. Midsummer, along
with the lawn they came to mow,
the men cut the sunflowers
down, and we found them,
lain in their enormity across
the ground, their stumps still
like ankles, standing severed
in the soil. I remembered all
the sunflower sprouts
and microgreens we had sprinkled
on salads, on pizzas, on tuna
melts, sinking our teeth into
their bright bite without a thought
of what they might have become.
Too late in the year to replant,
we tried it anyway, pressed
mammoth seeds into peat pots,
tended them till they sprouted,
sunk them into the same ground.
The August heat was harsh,
and they faltered as much
as they flourished, grew
only an inch at a time.
With the first breath of fall,
the wind felled them
in the night—not broken,
but bowed all the way
to the ground. We didn’t
know how to raise them,
but found a block of wood
to brace the strongest stem
just a little ways up
from the earth, and the next day,
a little ways more. In the daylight,
its heavy head tilted upward,
strained. When it had angled high
enough, we wrapped a tomato cage
around its stalk for support, counted
the hours of sunshine
as they shrank. We watched
through ragged green leaves
the slow formation of a circle
of tiny yellow teeth. Finally,
in October, our mammoth opened
its mouth into a glorious yawn,
as if to say, have you really
been waiting this long?
Erika Luckert is a poet, writer, and educator. She is a graduate of Columbia University’s MFA in Poetry, and a recipient of the 92Y Discovery Poetry Prize. Her work has appeared in Denver Quarterly, Indiana Review, CALYX, Tampa Review, F(r)iction, Boston Review, and elsewhere. Originally from Edmonton, Canada, Erika is currently a PhD student at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. www.erikaluckert.com