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Those wonderful Dandelions, nature’s punks are up and out!

Long before those
showy spring delicates,
the Lupines and Delphiniums,
are any more than shoots
for slug and snail to chew,
the anarchists of the plant
realm are up and ready
to bloom. Those yellow-headed
punks with spiky hair
that quickly peroxides white.
Their seeds follicled into the
spongy scalp that balds to
a stream of flying stars constellating
the next boundless generation.

No amount of toxic compound
can eradicate these
anarchic collectives
with their callous disregard
for law and ordered lawns.
They have even
persuaded children
to play at telling time,
wafting their seeds to
the whipping wind. Such
power in the dandelion,
to reflect the returning
sun and question our
compulsion to control
when we, like them, were
made for wildness and abandon.

There is a story
of weeds and wheat
in which only the
moss-encrusted God sees
the destiny of nature.
It is our gaze, not our hand,
that germinates such appreciation.
How savage to yank out their
yellow heads in a sacrilege of order.

From The Call of the Unwritten
Available fromĀ adriangrscott.com
Copyright Adrian G R Scott