a dandelion is a dandelionunlessgiven by a child. in which case it is the whole world,their whole world, plucked, held out—for you. I hold these dandelionsin my palm, pull thesedandelions from my hair,so rich am I to carrysuch love,my joy etched deepin laugh-lines—rivers where all these flowerssoft and wiltingtake root for good, forever. sweetness lingers… Continue reading