Dandelions

When I die,
bury me in
the dandelion fields.

Place my marker
atop the hill,
and when you visit,
as the trees turn
and the leaves fall,
a gentle breeze
will blow my
downy seeds
against your cheeks.

Then,
you will realize,
for good or bad,
that dandelions
refuse to die,

just like me.


©️ 2019.

I can’t decide if this is hopelessly cynical or cynically hopeful.

2 thoughts on “Dandelions

Leave a Reply to Obol Cancel reply