for Ted Hopkins
It typically forms a prostrate to mounding rosette
Which we once knew the use of but have now forgotten
And it will depend on wind direction and difficult terrain
Whether the winds will typically form our way again
Adding another mound to the way of the courtly poet
8 to 12 inches tall and wide, and usually wider than tall
Alone in the company we keep but that's only history
Spreading the little shade we have wide around ourselves
Taller should we discover the perspective isn't wide enough
Foliage is dark green, deeply lobed, and hairless
And is it really here to make deception with us?
It's called a weed and it's usually everywhere you look
The pissabed, lion's-den, teeth, the big breath and augury
The dark, deep-lobed intelligence of what we nearly see
The flower head is made of many small yellowray flowers
The head of a flower being its busy headquarters I guess
The rays of yellow made of the sun and our pleasure rays
From the forehead of beaches and narrow mountain tracks
Seeds are attached to a pappus for facilitating wind dispersal
Which is the whirling parachute the boy used to fly away
Which is still one ardor we'll remember on a windy day
The dispersal of disorder for the dreams that followed
The fevers, the fathers, the dogs, the old pavements...
©ROB SCHACKNE (2009)
