The lonely dandelion
Creeping out of the cracks of the pavement
She’s a single plant
A piece of nature
Defying man
Who tries to control her
Man
Who decides what is a weed
And what is beautiful
What’s a flower
And what’s a parasite
Man
Who chops her down
And builds a house out of her
The dandelion stands alone
Mrs. forgien invader
In fierce rebellion against the control of man
She rages against it
As long as she can
A lone dandelion
Then man comes along
And plucks her out
With no effort at all
A decapitation
A slicing and dicing
Like we always do
But the lone dandelion
Did nothing to us
There is no practical use
Of plucking the dandelion out
Except she doesn’t fit
In the box we’ve created
For this world
Man
Who thinks this world is for him
To mold and fold
To his will
So he plucks
And chops
And plows
And dams
And drills
Taking bites out of mother nature
Which somehow he is a product of
But has grown to feel above
It’s something like the child
Punching the mother.
I am rooting
For the lone dandy
In her fight
Against man
And I hope to see
More dandelions
Growing out of our cracks some day.
-C.H.