It's Dandelions!

Stella creeps around;
A single car rushes past;
Everything is still.

Where are the flowers?
Bare forsythia branches
Are just a bramble.










Tangled mound of hay
Leaning precariously
Once crowned with silver.








Her long nose sticking
Through the slats of the wood fence.
(The Basset's best part).










Beyond bare tree limbs
The mirrored stream flows softly.
A distant dog howls.









Chaotic green spikes
Shoot up from the forest floor:
First chives of the Spring.








In shade of the rock
Thick leaved green clusters abound--
The new ground cover.

Small bright yellow spots
Emerge from the brown dead leaves--
It's dandelions!