I want to be a dandelion
with a lemon lollipop head
gleaming in sun.

I want to have roots
that hold fast against weeder’s
trowel-hate.

I want to welcome storm’s
slashing wind, rain’s shivery kiss,
grey after-clarity.

I want to watch a thousand
molten orange sunsets ambush hills,
last rays throb.

I want earth’s wily, spinning
ways to cast their spell over me, hold me,
burn me beautiful.