Dandelion
That one dandelion in the lawn
who catches the wheel instead of the blade
smashed flat but not mortally wounded
it pops back up, its own sequel
towering over the flat clipped grass
all its fellows, all its familiar faces gone
it thinks: I am alone now
a small truth that will soon yield to a more complete truth
what rain knows and sun knows
what the mower can never know
the life of dandelions is not in the head, but the root.
Cassandra-Halleh Delaney is originally from upstate New York. She holds a Master’s degree in Counseling and Educational Psychology from New Mexico State University. Her work has appeared in Gateway, Sugar House, and Pear Noir. She currently resides in New Orleans, Louisiana.
See more of her work in 10.3 and 1.4