Dente Di Leone

having a plot not more than a large pot growing was a nurtured planted by nature wind blown seed that grew into a dandelion never mind for those that think it's just a weed it was never mine from the start so no need to feel or fill or fulfill any care or beware of its dying but when its yellow flower turned to a puffy dome of white seeds i felt threatened by the wind and even a sneeze so that no one would blow it up and away i placed atop it a laboratory bell jar but then thought and gasped perhaps the insane happiness of dear Sylvia Plath