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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
© Johnmichael Simon
2012
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