California Poppy (Eschscholzia californica)
Until I met you, I prayed
to water. But you shone
in want. What's it like
to grow from where
the earth cracks in thirst?
I have walked and walked,
crying out for home, stumbled
over barren ground,
eyes on the road behind me.
Finally, to come upon you—
amidst nothing—
golden tongues lapping
light, sun on a stem,
your green-feathered hands.
How have you made
loneliness a virtue?
I will not call you fire
even as you burn,
orange flash on brown bluff.
Fire can be tamed—
gas lamps snuffed, candlewax
drowning captive flames.
You are another kind of wild,
accepting only death
if plucked from your hill.
You, my home—the one
I never dreamed:
solitary, still, only the barking
of sea lions far below,
a small breeze now and then,
your steady glow.
Kathryn Petruccelli holds an MA in teaching English language learners. Read more.
Kathryn Petruccellli's poem "California Poppy" first appeared in the magazine Catamaran.