13 ways of looking at dandelions

I'm taking an online poetry class with George Murray and a group of amazing poets from across the country. We have to write a poem a week! It's been an adventure to focus on these short nuggets of words and to read and discuss others work so deeply. One of our recent prompt options was to write a poem in the vein of 13 ways of looking at a blackbird by Wallace Stevens.

When my friend Alex Rinfret (beloved colleague from days at Haida Gwaii Observer) wrote about how she once banished the colour yellow from her life and her recent reversal, I transferred that to dandelions. Originally, I had the part about her at the beginning, but I think I like it better at the end.

photo by Tom Johnson @tesjohnson00 on Instagram

13 ways of looking at dandelions

Dandelion green just a jagged weed.

Popping mary sunshine

severed by sweeping whip.

Rabbits nibble

the stems

straight to soil.

Roots stay viable

for 16 feet as survivors wear

their tired hair back.

Bile flow prolonged

thanks to tincture

stolen from a lawn.

Fevers, boils, fluid

retention, liver congestion

heartburn and eye problems.

Golden jelly

fermented juice, cookies,

coffee-like drink. Colonize.

Origin unknown

the tooth of the lion

digs everywhere.

One puff and the business

end continues

to brighten landslides.

Bitter with over-

abundance, bright

with glory

This small

flower convinced

a world to carry its seed.

My friend hates yellow,

used to howl about the shade

on the brink of a sunny day.

She pieced her pallet

together with blue, purple

and red instead.

Heart softened

by daffodils, enter

lemon, gold. Dandelion.