Searching For- Sunflower In- Official

You stop. Kneel. You don’t pick it. Some things are not meant to be taken—only found.

Searching for sunflower in late autumn is an act of stubborn hope. The stalks stand like skeletons, leaves curled into fists. The birds have long since taken their fill. Still, you move forward, brushing dry husks from your sleeves, listening to the rattle of the wind through empty centers. Searching for- sunflower in-

And then—there. Not at the front, not tall and proud. Half-hidden behind a broken fence post, leaning as if tired of waiting. One last sunflower. Its petals are frayed, its center a deep, wine-stained ring. But it is still yellow. Still turning toward the pale afternoon sun. You stop

Here’s a short write-up based on your prompt “Searching for sunflower in—� Some things are not meant to be taken—only found

…a field that once blazed gold, now gone to seed and silence.