Dandelion

Little clocks 
tumble by the birdfeeder
tolling the hours 
since you have gone.

When the fields opened
swallowing the Earth Mother's daughter
blood of pomegranate on her lips
she bowed her back
and returned to the soil
plowing her grief into what she knew best
blessing the dirt in the seams of her hands.

And what of you
gossamer spores tossed 
dancing on the wind
my first flower
gone to seed
and you can't wait
and I'm still here
learning acceptance.