Dandelions, ©Aliki Barnstone |
Weeds
I
like dandelions, though most say they’re weeds.
In
Greece they’re called wild greens.
Every
day the sun shines this stormy spring,
I
swear I’ll harvest, steam, and serve them
with
extra virgin olive oil, lemon, and salt,
yet
I don’t make the time because I’m not
a
wizard who knows how to rip the minutes
and
hours out of the universe by their roots
the
way I used to pull up dandelions and clover.
If
time were a garden, I guess the sunset hours
would
be the peonies and rarest fragrant roses
and
the weeds would be the seconds that spread
into
minutes and hours and choke the life
out
of what I most cherish. Perhaps.
If
I could harvest the dandelions and cook them
perfectly,
I wonder if my concoction would be
eternity
served on a white platter with a tall carafe
of
red wine and a basket of homemade bread
to
a table crowded with all my loved ones.
©Aliki Barnstone, appears in Enchanting Verses, Issue XIX, 2013
"Greens," ©Aliki Barnstone |