Lighthouse Dandelions by Jamie Wyeth
Though dusky clouds make haste to bring the night,
the sun breaks through with one last show of light.
The bright beams reach across the sea, take hold,
and turn the granite lighthouse into gold.
For but a breath, across the deep and damp,
the stone walls shine far brighter than the lamp.
The dandelions below are unimpressed.
Their hue remains although the sun sinks west.
Assured of their own yellowness, and pleased,
they toss their manes, nod proudly at the breeze.
But all too soon their gold will turn to gray,
and, unlike the sturdy lighthouse, blow away.