Macro shot photography of dandelion

It’s your parachute that takes you away,
the one of old age that disperses your seed,

when bracts bend down for launching
your release to the dropping of stamens,

dried petals, the adjustment of air
to moisture timing just right.

You’ve gone from bright yellow
ray floret to white hair brittle

dome of stars.
I love you, flower dandelion

(epithet ruderal).



Poem by Lynne Goldsmith

Lynne is an award-winning author of poetry and children’s books. Her poetry can recently be found in E-The Environmental Magazine, Interalia Magazine, and The Ekphrastic Review.