A Charles Bukowski poem and a poem. The dandelion.


The first dandelion.. 
 
The streets are empty,
the houses are quiet.
I wonder where are the children?
I clean-up the Winter waste and I smiled.
One beautiful dandelion had appeared through the Winter leftover.
I stood by her.
I told the dandelion,
thank you for making me smile.
The dandelion stood alone today and I knew now.
Spring is here,
maybe the days of Spring can bring better days for us.




 
 
Dancing Coyote
Category : poetry