The Dandelion Fight

My lawn is a mix of triumphant battle battered dandelions
Beaten with weed killer, but they’re tryin’
To stand tall, even if half of them fall with a curved stem.
I thought defeat would come to them
But they stand ready for another blow
So I’ll fight with a mow.

The remaining poofs see a tragic
Disappearing under the blade.
But we both know, like magic,
They’ll grow where they’ve strayed.