
I remember the dandelions
plucked by chubby fingers
into cherished bouquets.
Too short for vases,
they soaked in the water glass
proudly displayed by bedsides.
For a moment, they truly were
little suns - we revolved around them
They were loved, treasured as any gold.
We saw nothing but beauty
until the day we were taught
dandelions were weeds.
About the Creator
Marina Montenegro
Marina is a nonbinary writer and poet. Their work has been previously published by Pif Magazine, CEO Lit, Aegis Publish house, and more. You can follow Marina on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/MarinaMontenegro.Author/).



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