The Dandelion

"Pick Me," said she

but I refused.

"You'll die," said I

somewhat confused.

"I'll die anyway

no one will see

the beautiful expression

that is me.

Enjoy my beauty

for this one day

for tomorrow

I'll have gone away."

So I picked her,

and I brought her home,

set her on the window sill,

took her picture with my phone.

She basked in her glory,

shone bright all that day

and in the morning

she had gone away.

I saw her wilted on the sill

and wished to see

her shining still.

A tear welled up in my eye,

A lump in my throat

as I said goodbye.

Thank you dandelion

for your gift yesterday

I will not forget

though you've gone away.