Seeds of the Weed

A child sits

Looking up at the house of gold

As she sits on a patch of weeds

She wishes she could live there

And blows her wishes

On seed pods of dandelions

Hoping they rise

To do what she can’t

Landing on the golden house

And flourishing


One seed floats high

It reaches the top of the house

It stares up at the stormy sky above

And sighs as a downpour of rain hits it

Pushing it off the top

Into the rain gutter below


Another seed floats to a window

It lands in a pile of soft dirt

The window box of flowers for the wife

Where the delicate heads of orange poppies

Sway in the erstwhile wind

It buries itself in the dirt

Until the wife finds it hiding

And yanks it out


A third seed goes

It zooms past the house

To a white fence beside it

Were the animals for the house’s consumption are kept

It settles down besides this white wood

And flourishes unbothered

Until a cow munches its flowers


The fourth seed lands on a lamp-post

Where it looks out

As it sits in the grime at the top

Growing where no-one

Can reach or bother it

Alone in life and death


The girl grows up

And eventually takes a job

At the big house

And is never seen again

In the big field of weeds

Were dandelions

Remain unblown

And fall

Into native soil


This was written for The Mag


Lighthouse Dandelions by Jamie Wyeth is the art

8 thoughts on “Seeds of the Weed

  1. Focusing on the dandelion seeds ~~ clever, unique. Trying to decide which of the four seeds I would want to be ………..


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