Poetry Month Day 26: Bouquet, Interrupted

A single dandelion
is just a weed,
poking its spiky leaves
right where it has
no business being

and yet

a field of them
is a wonder to behold,
I thought as I gazed at the
carpet of yellow and green
on my way in from
today’s fire drill.

And then I saw her,
her kindergarten fingers
clutched clumsily
around the stems
she picked
and held while she was in line
and wanted to carry inside
I didn’t see her go in

but

I found these where she had stood.

Did she get bored?
Was she told to leave the outside, outside?
Did someone tease her?
Was she startled when someone said boo?
Was there a grown-up too preoccupied
To see and recognize her gifts?

Perhaps one of those things.
Perhaps any of those things.
We will never know what she intended,
only what she left behind:

glimpses of beauty
yellow, fragrant, withering
along the sidewalk

4 Responses to “Poetry Month Day 26: Bouquet, Interrupted”

  1. Raivenne Says:

    “We will never know what she intended,
    only what she left behind:”

    I feel those lines most sharply. Is this not us all in the end?

  2. Tim Gels Says:

    Deep sigh. Kids, in my experience, rarely abandon flowers. Adults, on the other hand, “leave the outside, outside.”

    I think I might have written about “weeds” within the last few months. If I didn’t, I’ve thought about them. Flowers where someone doesn’t want them, is what I say. I think they’re beautiful, just like that kinder who wants to bring them in.

    • Lainie Levin Says:

      Yes! So many threads talking about children and flowers and weeds and offerings and acceptance. I’m not sure if it’s an actual phrase, but there is advice I live by: “Never refuse a gift from a child.” Period.

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