Poem by Reece Watson

September 2022

Thumbnail illustration by Tiffany Zhong

Thumbnail illustration by Tiffany Zhong

In the flower, where young girls blossomed, a man plucked a dandelion, from the virgin patch. The man would whisper to the dandelion. He would tell tales of love and loss, and how he bred beauty and ugliness, in the people he made. The dandelion would ask the man questions. Would she find true love, feel perpetual sadness in loss, and lose her features, through age and ruggedness? The man could not answer.

But he knew. Knew that she would die young. Unhappily marry, even younger. Fall victim to many things, and encounter a great depression. If he told her, what reason would she have to blossom? If he didn’t, how could the man live with his decision to release her into the world of mankind, knowing what she would experience?

The man had made up his mind. He wouldn’t do either. Instead, he’d leave his field, of flowers and weeds. He’d leave them to grow and die, to learn and adapt, and realise, for themselves, their own answers to life.

The man would go,
Leaving behind only the rain and the sun.

You can find more of Reece’s work here.