We Go On

We Go On

She plucked the yellow-headed dandelions

to present a short-fisted bouquet

of hollow-stemmed sticky joy

which I received with genuine gratitude.

When, later, they had shriveled

shut their glorious blooms

into tight-faced dark beaks, she was concerned

distressed that the gift had become so poor and ugly.

This is simply what happens over time, I consoled.

Even a flower left on its stalk will close in the evening

and, in time, its yellow hair – like yours

will change to white thistle – like mine

Then with a puff of child’s breath

it will transform into a cloud of wishes

drift away to be granted in another place

destined to sow a hundred more.

~Andrine de la Rocha