Morning Glory
By: Claire Haynsworth Coenen
Early November. The sunflower stalks lean like strung-out, skinny men
against the vinyl siding of my house. The knock-out roses droop, hungover now.
Zinnias sag from too much sun. Their yellow perms turned mousey-brown.
On my way to fill the birdfeeder this morning, I’ve given up on shiny new arrivals.
Yet past the sleepy coneflowers and the burnt-out beauty bush,
a spread of silky, heart-shaped leaves drips from the trellis unphased by fall,
almost eager to celebrate a few more weeks. I planted the dust-sized seeds in May
with tempered hopes for blooms next spring and today
the vines draw me closer with their charisma and glamour. I question the tricks
of the light and my mind, seeing a blue jewel twinkle at the waistline
of the green gown. As I walk closer, the mirage of color changes into blossom,
glistening. I throw the bag of birdseed down, touch the periwinkle
diamond—its golden center glowing, trace the opal star stretched
across the ornament of petal with giddiness in hand and heart. I only know
to laugh and tingle with joy. I shout to the tired garden party
and the cardinals who need their breakfast,
Oh my God!
It’s bloomed!
Claire Haynsworth Coenen, LMSW, is a therapist and writer living in Nashville, TN. She is also a Kripalu-trained yoga instructor and SoulCollage® Facilitator. Her work has previously appeared or is forthcoming in The Nashville Scene, The Write Launch, Beyond Words Literary Magazine, and Light of Consciousness.