The Dandelion

I picked a faded dandelion
And blew it in the air
It's tiny little parachutes
Went floating everywhere. They caught the wind
And danced awhile
Bending to and fro
In splendid ballerina style. Finally as the wind grew still
They floated back to earth
And bedded in the dark warm soil
To start their new rebirth. When next summer comes
And dandelions are everywhere
I'll pick another faded flower
And blow it in the air.

by Janet L. Niehaus

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