Dandelion Poem

Once I wrote a poem

folded it and folded again

into a paper dart

          ~

On a grassy hillside, I stood

stretched my arm

over trees and ponds

filled with birds and fish

who couldn’t care a fig

for poetry

          ~

Floated my poem out over the world

          ~

Afterwards, I thought of bees

how they sip each flower

work so tirelessly, cluster like

a brown storm in and out of the hive

          ~

How honey trickles golden from a spoon

          ~

And how with one sting

used in self defense or anger

they disappear into mounds of leaves

and darkness, their single statement

gone, for ever

          ~

I don’t care much about money

or about fame, their artificial

sweetness dissipates like saccharine

leaving a bitter aftertaste

          ~

Perhaps a breeze will carry

my poem to some other place or time

land it safely on a patch of grass

or in a bush. Perhaps some passer by

will pick it up, think of dandelions or of bees

read it and smile

To Go Back To
SEARCH RESULTS
Hit your browser's
BACK BUTTON

© Johnmichael Simon

2012

.