Among the Dandelions

by Jonathan Chernoff

It’s April again and the hunt begins anew.

Hidden in plain sight amidst the verdant lawn,

they mock my every effort at eradication.

In early morning, all is well. From practice

they have learned to cloak themselves. Laying low,

heads down, they escape my anxious scrutiny.

By ten they've opened a phalanx of umbrellas.

They are a nation, fecund and populous.

They are an army, relentless and invincible. 

Their vanguards probe the edges of my lawn

seeking the soft spots - the barren patch,

an exposed root - they exploit any opening.

They jump with ease the ring of berms and gullies

I have massed about the flower bed. My

defensive line of mulch lies breached and broken.

Their legions march upon my garden.

I count fifty, a hundred; there are countless more.

They are a plague of biblical proportion.

My daughter sometimes comes out to help,

plucking off the crowns with dainty fingers

until she strolls away in boredom.

At least she doesn’t blow the heads off

as she used to, spreading the contagion

outward in a cloud of seeds.

Me, I take no prisoners.

I sink down on my hands and knees and go straight for the root.

I must get them all before their yellow heads go white.

The neighbors wonder at my obsession, and mutter

about the virtues of the natural state - live and let live,

that’s their motto - but what do they know of evil?

Through the open window, the voice on the radio rattles on

about wars in Gaza, Ukraine, and Afghanistan -

it’s all too much….

I listen to the words but go on with the work.

Here, among the dandelions, I take my stand,

and with a sharp stick uproot the corruption.

BIO: Jonathan Chernoff is a scientist and writer, based in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He has previously published poems in The Thieving Magpie, The Paterson Literary Review, The Connecticut Review, Caduceus, and Plainsong, among others. His work reflects themes of love, loss, and memory.