She sits amongst dandelions
wondering,
her questions mounting
like waves
which sparkle out there in
the middle of the river
while riddles swirl around
her ankles…
will he kiss her
will he kiss her not…
where weeds grow white
and dry
as neediness stretches
around signposts
which can’t help but point to
absolutely nowhere…
he squints into the sun
as he watches
for her minnows in dusty shallows,
the shadow of a boulder
hides his small shoulders
which echo
promises he
can
never ever
keep,
both find themselves wishing
they knew how to use dandelion seeds
as parachutes
Moccasins at Meadow Arc 
The words, the imagery, the emotions.
Loved this, a feeling of longing.
❤️
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🙂 thanks so much
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Wonderful post Kae 🙂
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Good morning Ben:).. thanks so much
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Loved this one, too! Your so talented ❤ xxx
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:)… ah… thanks so much Precious:)
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Fabula-rama! I decree this month dandelion and delicious poetry month!
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🙂
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