I’m inspired to celebrate the dandelion farm that my front yard has become. I called it my “field of wishes.” And then I took a closer look.
High yellow dress of golden sheen –
roughly silken –
unwelcome stepchild of the verdant green,
scorned on sight
until the gossamer turns
leaving roses rooted to the ground
as the dandelion dream –
wish sampled – takes flight
in a Cinderella nocturne
of a glass slipper song.
Happily ever after
if only for one day,
and maybe, for one night.
Cotton ball gown born out of fog.
SER © 17 June 2004
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