A song I recall from K through 6 says,
"Make new friends and keep the old."
This is for the gold.

On my walk back to school
I noticed a lone dandelion
in a thick rug of phlox.

My curious tug on the yellow flower
procured a stem, pre-broken. Then, several
weeded dandelions amidst the phlox.

You taught me to see the world in poems.
Little children poking flowers in mats of dreaded purple.
Giggling. Tickled with humor.

Before, Kaleigh and I were sharing
about friendships that sometimes
make us feel forgotten or unloved.

Mid walk, I find a grey topped flower
of dandelion seeds, pluck it by habit,
Blow the seeds off. Watch them like bubbles, dispersing.