No matter how often
we are trimmed, pulled,
sprayed into submission
with tear gas or roundup
we riot

we grow, we grow tangled
beautiful in spite of ourselves
and in spite we call living
we seed and go
where air takes us

we fly and these roots
grasp deep where we make them
blooming a so yellow rebellion
the way dandelions between the cracks
know it

About Susan L Daniels

I am a firm believer that politics are personal, that faith is expressed through action, and that life is something that must be loved and lived authentically--or why bother with any of it?
This entry was posted in New Free Verse and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

24 Responses to weeds

  1. Trent Lewin says:

    Ah hell Susan, I took the weeds as being us, recalcitrant and indomitable. I love this. I love seeing us as the weeds. Bring on the tear gas.

  2. damned troublemakers LOL

  3. I read it as the indomitable spirit 🙂

    Incidentally, it was only on Saturday that I had the dandelions growing wildly and unchecked uprooted in our home. When we moved in last November they had spouted everywhere on the compound and we let them be. My mom (who stays with us) use some for salads ever so often (I’m a poor cook). But of late, they had become troublesome, with their yellow buds. 🙂

    I guess they will sprout again, this time very fresh, what with the rains.

    Wonderful metaphor 🙂

  4. Nicholas Gagnier says:

    Hello! I would like to feature you in the Retcon Poet Anniversary Week! More details: http://wp.me/p2mtwX-1xV

  5. BroadBlogs says:

    Maybe we all need to be more like weeds.

  6. Starralee says:

    Wow, this is stellar writing–I totally enjoy.

  7. Alice Keys says:

    WEEDS. Yup. You nailed this one, Susan.

Comments are closed.