by JD DeHart

I offered my aunt

the flower I thought was delicate,

but she pushed it away.

That’s a weed, she declared,

and I sank inside.

I don’t remember what I did with

the gift, in my shame, but I do

remember at other times she

warned against running the grass

(for fear a blade would fly up

and put out my eye)

and also warned against

touching the top of the salt shaker.

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Writers Bio

JD DeHart is a writer and teacher.  He has published poems in Gargouille and Illya's Honey, among other publications.

Inspirational ImageWhere dandelions used to grow. by Nancy Larsenby Nancy Larsen

Pieces Inspired by this Image

'Roses, Dandelions, Teardrops'
by Russell Hemmell

'The tick-tick-tock of the clock'
by Cath Barton

by Zev Torres

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