What, snowfall on a hot autumn day!?
But it ain’t a deception, a clever use of metaphor
for it is a dandelion snow
Seeds thrown upon the winds
their fine, feathery growths spinning and spinning like a helicopter rotor
Some fall softly and safely in the ground and disappear
but hundreds soar high in the winds, fuzzy and cotton-like
to be carried in the breeze, perhaps for miles or just another dark pit,
who could say?
Then another accidental current blows over the crowded junkyard of what used to be a garden
And as if in a flash a fresh dandelion snow
Each seeds independent (sometimes attached) their silver wings helping them move up in the winds
And they seem to say this as they soar–
“We know we’ve been abandoned in the air current by our ruderal parents in their last act of love, to live our respective fates and lives”
“Some of the lucky ones amongst us will travel great distances and perhaps find a better place to soak up the sun and survive”