Yesod She b’Netzach*
Across the rain-wet morning field,
a crowd of dandelion stalks coifed
in soaked seed fluff, a bad-hair
morning as sun appears
to light this convocation of elder ladies.

The warming breeze blow-dries them.
Their thin feathery hair’s awry, scalps
peeking through as they nod
and gossip all across the meadow,
happy to offer all their seed
to this shining new washed world.
                                                            5/4/2012
        *Generation & Bonding w/in Eternal Endurance