A great poem from Sarah Russell. Here, in an English winter, the Dandelions are still strutting their stuff across my back lawn.
“A weed is a flower growing in the wrong place.”
George Washington Carver
they invade the bluegrass suburbs
where blades form a passive sameness
if tended as intended. They strut
across the green of everyday —
strumpets in tattered leafy skirts,
stiletto roots — bestowing downy favors
on the summer breeze.