Poem: To the Dandelions

 

To the Dandelions

 

the clouds,

such zinc lids in february,

open to your omens, 

 your sensitive pores.

 

some of us dance 

gathering the whisk of your vivid brush,

so cool under naked soles,

 

and must ask:

 

did the stars erode,

mere figments of a shattered spine,

never as alert or tangy or able to pout, so well, like you

concerning this happy day?

 

did they falter,

those stellar wishes and silvers,

to bow before your yellowy blush?

 

maybe they knew--

how you adorn spring’s dress, beyond impeccable,

when combed by a susurrus.

you who herald the sweet cornsilk 

 and misty prophecies of spiderweb.

please 

enchant me one last time,

while i skip imbued

with the skyblue dizzy glee

of a child.

=============

7/26 meh

6/26  .. eh

8/27/24 eds

Anniversary of my brother's death.  He liked sunflowers ... but somehow this has turned out as dandelions.