"It has been a pleasure all these months," she said.
The wind blew a gust of breath and part of the sunflower's front side fell off, floated, then twirled in spirals like a rain chain down to the weeded earth below her.
"I can say the same," her companion to the left said.
Weeds engulfed their backbones, once bright green but now a dusty tone that blended in with all the autumnal dust gathered in corners and cobwebs. The Queen Anne's Lace, once fit for a young princess, was now weathered, yet wise from a summer of life having not been consumed by goat, donkey or sheep.
The two sunflowers had lived a full life, but had journeyed as far as they could go. It is our time now to retreat back into the original womb of dirt.
They would never see each other again but perhaps their prodigy would stand next to each other in full sun next summer, and when the full sun retreated leaving the autumnal moon, it would be their turn to stand and reminisce of days gone by when they were young and strong and tall.
