World, forget me
For I am just another dandelion
blown away too soon in a field,
before the children came to play
World, forget me
because I am just another cut,
from the blade of society
To linger, and to disappear
World, forget me
because the seas will continue
to crash against the sands
and the clouds will continue
to rain against the ground
The winds will forever continue to blow,
world forget me,
because I'm just a candle
in a world of wildfires
To be blown out
once it kept someone warm
World, forget me
because my silence will bring peace
and absence will bring
a warm embrace,
to sweep across the lands
World, forget me
because one more window broken
is just another replaced,
forget me because
my breath will save
the one who needs it more
the ones in the closets,
the ones in the seas,
the ones in space
who can't come down to earth
World, forget me
because I am just one to the world
and none to one
so forget me, because
one more gone
wouldn't make a difference
especially one
lacking
everything
needed

I wonder if my legacy
will merely be a faint light
in the peripheral vision
of a passer’s eye or a shadow figure
of a memory, the name on the tip
of a tongue one can’t seem to form.

No matter how many letters I write
to my ten-year-old self she doesn’t
seem to trust she will ever be first in line
because she’s been taught, she’s
supposed to be last.

I am beginning to understand
why I’ve always been in love with dandelions.
They are petaled, defiant sunlight
thriving where nothing else can.

When I see short dreamlike
visions in my slumber, they are as the beauty of snowfall and flora, oh how those icy fragments of winter and the dandelion silky strands in the aerial streams of the sky chant, if only I could linger in them as an enfold within my limbs in my own cosmic sigh.

Somewhere far away where nothing looks the same
I could see a pretty dancing dandelion dame

Nobody would rob her from her joy
and nobody saw her as a toy

she danced and danced with a smile
she could go on dancing for a while

she had no doubts, no insecurities, no fear
because no humans or danger were anywhere near

Oh, dandelion dame, I wish I was you in some way
because humanity, reality and this city are grey

I want to be the dandelion
growing in between the cracks
in the sidewalk
living in spite
of everything trying to
**** it

Celestial and spritely flower head
A cloud of white in a wheel
A spread of stars on a sunny bed
Enchanting - a vision ethereal
Blooming afar and clustering nigh
What bud, what blossom, what ****
Blowing away with just a sigh
In a breath, in the wind that breathes.
While the rose is crowned and daisies loved
How often are you brushed away
But magic lies in your snowy fluff
As wishes fly night and day
You greet the morning, a languid dawn
As the skies turn pink and bright
Then gather close with the moon's rising song
That plays with the coming of night
A fairy's flower you seem to me
A joy - a charm - a delight
Flying away over meadows and leas
In the wind with your wings of white.

I have so often wondered why the rose in the yard kept being a rose when everyone else is a dandelion,
or why it would recite light when midnight is still in the land’s arms.

When the spring rages,
and the rain dry of its songs,
when the colors are famished
of their sky,
when the stars abed fail to rise,
this rose is unfazed.
ever flamboyant on the stage,
gliding gracefully on ebony ice,
this rose has a will of a cactus.