Dandelions
Little
Bright, yellow heads
Despised not for beauty.
That are here, there and everywhere
I tread
Ever
so cautiously
In your meadowy home
Amidst copious genera
Alone.
Solo
But not really
Alone. Strolling along
Accompanied by my friends at
My feet.
Brushing
Jagged edged leaves-
Like baby lion’s teeth.
So aptly named dent de lions.
Lead on!
Yellow
Companions. The
Season is waning. Your
Feathery, cotton heads reveal
Its end.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
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