Sunflowers

I remember tooling along the highway somewhere in the Midwest.
The sun was shining, the landscape a quilt of varying shades of green, a sprinkling of houses and farm buildings.
Then suddenly ... it seemed sudden at the time ... I became aware of those acres of sunflowers "staring" at me. I was reminded of a classroom, not as a teacher, for I was never privileged to have that role, but as a visitor entering quietly, yet becoming, for the moment, the center of attention ... all those young heads turning, those eyes all focused on me, evaluating, questioning.
Oh, how that field of sunflowers reminded me of that moment. And now, this morning ... when there's a deep blanket of snow spread across Ohio, and the temperatures have plunged into single digits ... I'm enjoying the memory of that sun-drenched scene ... and how it set the wheels turning toward another poem.
It goes something like this:


SUNFLOWERS

Great gray ribbon
of road unspooling
steadily beneath me,
then, to my left,
acres of big brown eyes
all intently focused;
first day of school,
teacher's talking.

© 1995
(originally published in Capper's)
                             ***
Today's word: focused
Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:
Thank you for stopping by, June. When someone does that, and says, "I know that feeling" ... either about the poem or my own commentary ... I know I've succeeded, and that ... well, that just makes my day.