When they grow up - in the season -
each one looks like in a prison.
Neither three nor twenty four
but a lot … and even more!
They are stuck in immense crush
like the cars in city rush
and a straw in wheaten stubble.
No! This crowd is more than double!
‘Cause they are stuck in a jam
they don’t walk – any of them -
they don’t caper on the streets.
Any of … sunflower seeds.