(Day 48) I went walking yesterday and there standing by the roadside was the last remnant of a season past; a sole Dandelion with every piece of fluff in perfect order. I only got three shots as a breeze started to blow carrying off the fluff stuff and the last of summer. Dandelions are dangerous Dandelions don’t need gardeners Dandelions are artists They ignore all the boundaries in the yard Flower beds? They’re in them and they’re out of them Wreaking their insomniac havoc all about. The crafted and groomed watch jealously From their straight rows and their well planned lives. And they can see who is having the fun Painting dada smiley faces on daVinci lawns The other flowers are not stupid Just stationary And, sheltered as they are They know who’s been around. Growing zones? Don’t make me laugh The other flowers are not stupid They just have the plastic left on their couches They have their “Do Not Touch” signs Displayed in their careful elegance Meanwhile the children make chains with yellowed fingers Meanwhile the children test to see if they like butter And the crafted and groomed look on And wish they’d come up with that simple idea first. Dandelions are artists. With their outrageous style And a bright yellow Tina Turner hair-do With outrageous opulence that doesn’t spare a Springtime acre Subtlety be damned. Dandelions are dangerous Dandelions have no need for gardeners Dandelions are artists. by John Bauman