Who May Wish To Adjust Their Contract Regarding Endings

(inspired by a photo by Kit Sibert)

White dandelions in a field,
a sudden field.
Overnight, an entire company
     of dream-addled recruits
     has seeped and flowed
from the distant, dark, now-empty hill,
               ending here
in the firmly horizontal.

              Taking a stand of sorts,
in the stillness they do not, will not, know
as final.

the way they have rounded all their caution
onto their heads,
    ready to be taken by the winds.

on their spindly stems,
heads showing barely above
the taller grasses they have always so carelessly
     they must be staggering to have walked this far
     without moving.

Would seem, the newly-whitened ones,
engaged in a yearly ritual
      of disowning
the robust yellow conversations of their ancestry –
     (wrong, it turns out).

These dandelions are caught
doing something rarely visible, but not rare,
as the snapshot reveals them poised
in groups of twos and threes, of threes
and fours. . . .

like a musical temperament sketched as a dance.
Exactly that – Listen!

Anita Sullivan

Anita Sullivan writes poetry and prose inspired by hours spent outdoors in Oregon's Willamette Valley. Most recently she has published a second full-length poetry collection 'Original Flamboyance.' She also has four essay collections, a novel and a couple of poetry chapbooks. She volunteers in a local community library.