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Welcome to OpenLinkNight everyone!  We hope you are all safe and practising physical distancing in our strange new world.    

As you know OpenLinkNight  is your opportunity to link 1 poem of your choice as this is no prompt-day. For those who missed the Mr Linky deadline this Tuesday’s poetics “Make some room” or any poetry prompts that you have missed in the past, this is the opportunity to share your poem.   Out of courtesy, please link back to dVerse Poets Pub if you are sharing your poem.

In my part of the world, we went from having late snow flurries to summer (29 C) in a span of three weeks.  Spring was a very short season.  Bring on summer then!

Dandelions by Peter Campion

After the cling of roots and then the “pock”
when they gave way
the recoil up the hand
was a small shock
of emptiness beginning to expand.

Milk frothing from the stems. Leaves inky green
and spiked.
Like blissed-out childhood play
turned mean
they snarled in tangled curls on our driveway.

It happens still. That desolating falling
shudder inside
and then our neighborhood
seems only sprawling
loops…like the patterns eaten on driftwood:

even the home where I grew up (its smell
of lingering
wood-smoke and bacon grease)
seems just a shell
of lathe and paper. But this strange release

follows: this tinge like silver and I feel
the pull of dirt
again, sense mist uncurling
to reveal
no architecture hidden behind the world

except the stories that we make unfolding:
as if our sole real power
were the power
of children holding

this flower that is a weed that is a flower.



And it grows, the vain
even for us with our
bright green sins:

behold the dry guest,
the wind,
as it stirs up quarrels
among magnolia boughs

and plays its serene
tune on
the prows of all the leaves—
and then is gone,

leaving the leaves
still there,
the tree still green, but breaking
the heart of the air.

Source:   Poetry Foundation

To join us for Thursday’s OpenLinkNight, here’s how to join:

See you at the poetry trail. ~Grace~