My friend’s dog loves dandelions.
She loves to eat these bright yellow stars.
To her they must taste good.
Hard to imagine, although it’s said they’re edible.
Apart from the occasional dandelion salad or tea,
humans usually regard them with disdain—a stain
upon our impeccable yards
as we rush around with our clippers and mowers
or attempt to pull them up by their roots from which
they usually pull back.
It’s at the roots you’ve got to get them.
A good dose of Weed-B-Gone usually does it
as they shrivel up, turn brown and breathe their
last little breath. Sigh . . .
Yet, dandelions are durable little fellows for all our extermination
attempts against their short-lived lives—
bright, small stars, faces to the sky, just happy to be alive.
© 1997 Shoshana Wolfington