Dandelions

Nobody likes them
because they distract from their
perfectly manicured
unnaturally green lawns.

But I adore them,
I think they’re beautiful.
I can almost hear their bright, fluffy voices
calling out to me.

This dollop of yellow
placed on a stem,
as if Sun himself
tossed pieces of gold
into the whispering grass.

So today,
in honor of this forgotten flower
(“weed”, as they say),
I wear them in my hair,
weave them into the dirty
laces of my shoes,
and throw handfuls of them
into the lake,
watching them drift
down the stream.

Don’t forget
the dandelions.