By J. Carmichael, 2005, via Wikimedia Commons
Familiar in Vermont
Gold. Fresh. Clean. The June dandelion
is a carpet of meadow drying out after days
of rain. Showers that thickened forked roots.
Commune of color, brilliancy of yellow,
a slow-turn to wishing weeds.
I am far from home. This seductive green
smells softer than my fir trees, moss,
solidity of cedar bark. Pats of sunshine
butter below a mind-bank of clouds
where whims blow off as rabbits run.
* * *
Tricia Knoll is a Portland, Oregon poet who has maintained gardens all her life, sowing the seeds of sanity. She grew up admiring her mother’s roses and vegetable garden. She is an Oregon State University Master Gardener and volunteers at Portland’s Washington Park Rose Test Garden. Her chapbook Urban Wild is available from Amazon and focuses on interactions between humans and wildlife in urban habitat.
