A Minister and his wife
ironically named Young
sold 1930’s babies
from the Ideal Maternity Home
while the unwanted ones
were staved
on molasses and water
and they lay to rest
those butterbox babies
in wooden crates
from the local dairy
used as coffins
and hundreds
of backfield mounds
were born
on the backs
of weeping women
who unknowingly fed
the notorious couple’s
voracious appetite
for bread.
Somehow,
probably because
I was lost
wading ankle deep
in the variety of ways
to make a sock monkey
on Pinterest,
I missed it,
and unknowingly
made a salad
when all the world
was celebrating
National Grilled Cheese Day,
and that is so sad
because I do have cheese,
and butter,
and bread,
and the born in the Midwest
Green Bay Packer Loving
fan-ability
that should have
made me fry
that puppy
ankle deep
in bacon.
Summer offers
her warming light
so playful children
can butter their chins.
Finally going to seed
it takes only a puff of air
to tear them limb from limb
and send them flying.
Each little fluff
flies to a tender place
that welcomes it
and lets it grow.
And dandelions, too,
want nothing more
than the wind to lift them
and carry them home.