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
Tagged: Art, dandelions, rebellion, unlikely beauty, weeds
