The dandelions are out in all their glory:
each ﬂower could rival the sun.
They line both sides of a not too straight
back-garden path — eleven or ten
yellows on either side. And now:
a Magpie makes an Entrance
and walks between the blazing golden ranks,
strutting its stuff, or waddling it,
aldermanly perhaps? But handsome always.
Then takes to the air, the sun
glinting a rich blue on its black and white
The dandelions remain,
bright in the proud earth,
each one matching the sun.
from At Least for a While (2008)
by Pearse Hutchinson