#and then here’s this prompt! tailor made for a poem about dandelions!

[salovie]

Through frosts and flakes, the dandelions still wake, bright spots when the sun can’t cut it—

Then fade to gray, like we all will someday, grow soft, but not yet quiet.

Our roots will stay but wishes will play: on breath and on wind they scatter—

Small seeds of hope, endeavors to cope, elope with the breeze and bloom after.