Bringing back the lunch poem. Beans & rice with Amichai.
Fields of Sunflowers
Fields of sunflowers, ripe and withering,
don't need the warmth of the sun anymore,
they're brown and wise already. They need
sweet shadow, the inwardness
of death, the interior of a drawer, a sack
deep as the sky. Their world to come
the innermost dark of a dark house,
the inside of a man.
from The Selected Poetry of Yehuda Amichai