by Tenebris

Created on: June 30, 2008

Christmas Dandelion

Already we'd pruned the roses;
tools of the trade, lawncutters and such
sit rusting in their shelters
December rain tapping a soft
lullaby on the corrugated roof,
on the dreaming grass.

Where is the snow? It's uncommonly
warm for December, a
tornado touched down only yesterday
mulching winter lawns with scattered metal
scarcely a week to Christmas
and not a snowflake in sight.

Only the brown grass waits for a sleigh
dull earth too boggy to sustain even the print
of splayed hooves, houses hurriedly patching up
guidance lights, and for a landing port
a single yellow dandelion.

Christmas dandelion, reflecting sunsparks
where no sun has shone for days
surely you didn't wait only
to echo in darkness,
light?

Then let the snow cover you
warm white snow shelter you
the question of your status can wait
until spring.

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