I was walking to the bus stop this morning
when I came across a crevice in the road,
a break in the asphalt where a
single dandelion had decided to grow.
Because I am curious about weeds
and things that flourish when
they are told not to,
I knelt down on the street and
pushed my hand down into the crack
as far as it would go,
down into the darkness of
the flower’s sanctuary.
When I pulled my fingers back to the surface,
the blackness came tumbling out with them,
along with all the empty space left
untouched for centuries by the sunlight,
brought up by my presence
and eye for the hidden.
I always go looking for things
that shouldn’t be found,
secrets that aren’t mine to share,
but I’ll tell you this:
there’s a lot more darkness in
this world than I have