The manicured lawn is lush and green.
There’s nary a weed in sight.
They’ve all been slain by glyphosate.
Through a wee crack in the sidewalk
a solitary dandelion raises up its head,
its bright yellow florets gleaming like the sun.
The sidewalk, the single place in the yard
where herbicide has not been strewn,
the one unsullied place of refuge.
A lonely and companionless dandelion
growing in the sole spot in the yard
where its deep tap roots can flourish.
Soon its yellow head will become a fluff of seeds
which wind will carry to cracks in other sidewalks,
other places of refuge for dent de lion.
Before long multitudes of solitary dandelions
will grow through many cracks in many sidewalks
and countless yellow florets will glow like the sun.
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