January 15, 2013

splitting the sidewalk
 
Surely, a mirage, a trick, this dandelion peering from concrete
in the thick of a supposed winter, petals an obstinate, flashy yellow.
How dare she rear her beauty this early, when she is meant
to be tucked into a long hibernation. The gall, really, to show
her face as the sky mutates into yet another shade of grey. She disobeys
the very laws of nature. But perhaps this is her nature, this primitive revolt
from the hard earth, splitting the sidewalk in two. Perhaps she was absent those days
the rules for blooming were assigned and now she shocks the whole neighborhood
with the fruits of her mutiny. What are you waiting for, she asks. The story starts here.
Forget the lines they drew for you. The path is yours to clear.