Sunflowers? Sunflowers? Anyone for sunflowers?
More changes, more fidgeting, more time passing.
Sixty days seem like as many years but a few hours.
Where will I go? Here? There? Anywhere?
Down the block? Way down south? No one knows. Not even myself.
Help me please? Where shall I be?

Perhaps you'll find me under a tree, or sleeping on a peddler's knees.
Disorganized craziness will ensue. Who's holding my hand? Will you?


Thanks goes to Zann for the sunflower idea and help making the image work. Girl knows her stuff, regardless of the Bailey's.