Dandelions of Summer

 

Spring welcomes the yellow piss-beds,

gold, and green-stemmed, 

endless fields of first-feed bee nectar, 

Linnaeus wrote of your toxic value, 

myth, or gift from the gods, 

you litter the leas with cropped strands;

food, drink, and medicine

imbues your magical potion, 

as some pishogue lost folk art,

though the bitter wine

flows gently into sour mouths;

strigose tassels 

hang down like golden mops, 

they breed the ground like a harem’s keep, 

sweeping endless fields

colored in van Gogh yellow,

fever the glorious summer

of picnics, and fest beds

of sunshine.