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A few weeks ago, I was walking back from a class with a friend and I noticed some dead dandelions a few feet from the sidewalk. I stopped to pick them up so I could blow on them and make a wish, and my friend asked what I was doing. Apparently, he didn't know that blowing the seeds from a dandelion will grant you wishes. It made me think about a lot of things. About childhood, about growing up, about being here at Drury. And then it made me think about an idea I had been working with a while back. I posted something about it on my myspace, but I think that what I have written now is a more complete thought. I'm almost pleased with how it turned out.
Dandelion Wishes
under the fading september sun,
we’d exhale our hopes
over dandelion corpses,
filling the air with wind scattered wishes
and ghostly tufts of seedling snow.
within the shadows of the live oaks
where we’d dance with bare feet
and bare souls,
we would twirl until we’d collapse,
panting and giggling and staring through the branches,
past the clouds, past the blue, past the universe,
until eternity itself spun its secrets
over giddy eyes in dizzy heads,
over tangled limbs and intertwined fingers.
in the fields behind your father’s house,
we discovered the deepest parts of one another,
and i held a pulsating human heart
in tiny, trembling hands
for the first and only time.
i wanted to take it,
lock it inside my own chest
where you could beat without a rhythm
that would carry you through my body
(that may as well have been your body
because i always belonged to you).
but in in the fields behind your father's house,
within the shadows of the live oaks
cast by a fading september sun,
you climbed up the rungs of my ribcage,
ripped a hole in our eternal autumn,
leaving only dandelion flurries and
a void on my right side,
once safe against your left side,
where you no longer sleep
but where you sometimes still dream.
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| | Posted 10/13/2007 11:33 AM - 18 Views - 2 eProps - 1 Comment
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