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dandelions.
by Andrew S Adamsthe dandelions on the side of the road are overgrown.
i'd pick them, but i get the feeling they wouldnt fancy it;
and, as it would be a temporary amusement,
i've decided to leave them be.
sometimes though, i have to wonder what
they would feel if they were to pick me.
would i be a weed, forever the bane of their existance?
if only we could pick our lives the same way;
i could pick you. but then again, there
are weeds allaround- most of the time
we cut through, assume the blades of grass
and make love in the fields;
but then, the yellow blooms
as beautiful as they are,
are still weeds. shall we lament?
or commit genocide?
the dandelions on the side of the road are overgrown.
i would pick them to save them from myself;
but what would i be saving? 05/14/2004 Author's Note: it's been a rough night.
Posted on 05/15/2004
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Maureen Glaude on 05/15/04 at 11:34 PM I really liked how started with the specific, smaller universe of the dandelions on one side of the lawn, then blossomed out into the relationship angle, after the intriguing twist of fantasy as a weed. Beautifully carried off. |
| Posted by Leslie Ann Eisenberg on 05/16/04 at 06:41 PM interesting conversation you had with yourself....i especially liked the second stanza....i LOVE that you ended with a question...overall, a lovely introspection. leave it to a poet to see the world through a weed! |
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