Dandelion

Suburban flower
I see in your yellow teardrop petals a
universe sly as the glint in a magpie's eye
your flower symphony
epitome of beauty with a
hint of mortality
final encore beneath a rising tide
of marching antennae astride
housing estates of the future
razor wire and concrete walls
anomie of backyard bonhomie
hope abandoned among dead gums
barbecue of dreams
lifeless minds with TV screens.


She saw nothing special in orderly rows
brick by brick building a wall of solitude
mortared with guilt
watered with tears
demolished forests replaced with fear
longing for destiny
mystery of inner light
sewing holes in happy memories
singing to escape mundanity
to no place special
where sirens crush life from footpaths
windows are sightless eyes in
urban cemeteries of rusty gutters and
twisted tram-tracks.

It's always five to midnight in the cell where
his body hangs
where each elegy is a suicide on the track
where the street is drunk and every house an untapped keg
where dreams are lost and scarecrows found
somehow to awake and
gaze at a flower
see a place far from here
another world
where reeds sway to a chorus of frogs
birds sing to the melting rain
far from power lines
far from smog
as a blizzard of petals obscures the street
and a yellow flower stands alone.

I walk home from the station
glance over my shoulder at a stranger following
she smiles and hands me a dandelion.