dandelion

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
what are weeds anyway

Submitted: May 21, 2013

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Submitted: May 21, 2013

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dandelion died by the black wasp;

sunny-skulled,

his snake neck weak, trembled

to the ground.

 

the assassin dances finicky circles

and must find taste

for the children he may bear

to eat,

his fingers knive and needle

even in the flesh of kin.

he cuts a new pore to the

 

sky,

a massive bled reflection of

morning stars, drooped eyes

collapsed and

gone white to seed.

 

so the weed sagged too,

lame, though never broke on anything

'til now.

 


© Copyright 2019 Caroline Michaud. All rights reserved.

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