All day the dandelion
moved through the streets
disguised as a woman.
She was amazed
how friendly people could be
when you looked like one of them.
No one tried to pick her.
No one stepped on her.
They even commented
on how yellow and cheerful
she seemed. All I think
I know is wrong, she thought.
She felt oddly at ease
with this notion.
Still, all she wanted
was to return to her field,
to feel the sun move across
the sky, to feel her own goldenness
fade into white, into nothing.