Dandelions
A field:
off-white feather follicles,
flying and fondling each
other in lewd and licentious favoritism.
They are seeds holding
umbrellas, standing tight
-ly together to form a perfect
symbiotic semicircle;
doomed,
for spinning bright colored
dreams that had in them seams
of somalias woven between hope
and desire.
A gust:
a blow within
the wind pushes
it’s way past, takes
with it one
umbrella at a time, leaves
homes dilapidated, deteriorating
down to each desperate, tiny
seedling
in ways the wan, white
plush rolls and
topples over one another
one
by
one
until they wipe
away the wind.
*Dedicated to Hurricane Katrina’s victims