Splendour

Throughout summer,
there are countless shades
of green and shapes
of leaves, textures of bark.
Some grow tall, while others revel
in their stunted hunchbacks,
sculpted by weather.

While scrawny sunflowers
complain about their last
dance with the sun,
trees smile and limber up
for the golden splendour
stored in their roots,
their hidden autumn treasure.

Kim M. Russell, 14th August 2025

Image by Martin Sanchez on Unsplash

This Thursday at the dVerse Poets Pub, Björn is hosting an Open Link, when you can post one poem of our liking, which leads in to dVerse Live on Saturday.

He has also provided a mini prompt, which I really like, a question from Pablo Neruda’s Book of Questions:

‘Why do trees conceal
the splendor of their roots?’

This poem is my answer.

44 thoughts on “Splendour”

  2. This is absolutely exquisite, Kim! 😍 I love the notion of scrawny sunflowers complaining about their last dance with the sun. ❤️❤️

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  3. “While scrawny sunflowers
    complain about their last
    dance with the sun,”

    This is brilliant, Kim. Could be a line from a Leonard Cohen song. Your work is always of such high quality.

    JIM

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  8. Made me melancholic about the end of summer but at the same time I welcome the dying of weeds in my garden. Gone are the days of eating garden corn over the butter dish.

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  16. I smiled at your second stanza, Kim. It amused me to think of scrawny sunflowers complaining–the opposite of how I usually imagine them–and the trees happy to pull out their golden autumnal treasure.

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  20. A beautiful response to the prompt, Kim. I especially love “stunted hunchbacks / sculpted by weather” and how “trees smile and limber up” for the last of the sun as they prepare for autumn.

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