The Entropod Anomaly Pg.2E
The Dandelion Seed
As a hunter, as a sleuth
For things of dignity and truth
I sometimes clash; I often find
That I must steel my finite mind.
Not like a rock which cannot feel
Nor scar its wounds which cannot heal.
Not like a fortress, dark and strong
Which bears men's weight most all day long.
But, like a dandelion seed
Which, though it is but one, small weed
Does let the wind, with all its might
Determine distance for its flight.
And after all's been done and said
And this small seed looks sadly dead
It sprouts-
Wherever it's been led.
The Entropod
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