“Child, look for flowers
In our fields;
they are there.
There is a kind that grows
Out of hungering soil,
In spite of stiffened earth –
In our fields.

“There is a kind that teethes on rock,
Thrives on the trampled leavings;
This is a kind that will not die
Unsunned
In our fields.

“Don’t bother your head with roses!
You will not want to go
Where they are trapped to thrive
Outside our fields.
They have sunset faces, for the most,
And, for the most, belong
To a sunset-pampered crowd.

“But now and then you’ll find
A rebel rose that glows
Among sunflowers
In our fields.
And it is good to see this, too,
That family’s other side.

“But look to the growing among us:
Giant sunflower crowd,
Though weaned to a crust
Of the much required,
Grow on–
anyhow.”