Jean Nordhaus Poems
- Posthumous Would it surprise you to learn that years beyond ...
- Pauline Is Falling from the cliff's edge, kicking her feet ...
- I Was Always Leaving I was always leaving, I was about to ...
- A Dandelion for My Mother How I loved those spiky suns, ...
- A Purchase Of Porcelain Because the king decrees that every...
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A Dandelion for My Mother
How I loved those spiky suns,
rooted stubborn as childhood
in the grass, tough as the farmer's
big-headed children—the mats
of yellow hair, the bowl-cut fringe.
How sturdy they were and how
slowly they turned themselves
into galaxies, domes of ghost stars
barely visible by day, pale
cerebrums clinging to life
on tough green stems. Like you.
Like you, in the end. If you were here,
I'd pluck this trembling globe to show
how beautiful a thing can be
a breath will tear away.