One Door

The sky is literally a thing.
I’m not sure you know
how to knock on one door
and get one right answer.

Dandelions are seldom alone
but when they are, they align
themselves by fences, grow
as large as in Allegra commercials
before those could tell you
what they were selling.
But dandelions, real ones,
aren’t selling anything
but themselves

to bees

and anyone else who knows
where to find the key,
how to come in.


From a prompt to write about “one,” at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.


14 thoughts on “One Door

  1. Jim says:

    Our eight-year-old granddaughter had the honor of picking the first two dandelions in our yard. The first had gone to seed and she blew the seeds to the wind. The second was a nice yellow and that one she saved for her mom.

  2. Rosemary Nissen-Wade says:

    I love it. It’s like a new mythology you’ve created. (Backed, perhaps, by scientific fact, if it’s true about the lone dandelions.)

  3. Kerry O'Connor says:

    Such a treat to read your poetry again. You have a unique style that kind of grabs me by the throat in awe.

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