Strange whistles through the wooden door,
Gone once the girl steps out to see the world.
Wind greets the auricles with a rough caress.
Strands of hair, unkempt and disheveled
She smiles through the vision temporarily impaired.
A thousand blue balloons lost in the heavens
Blades of grass and branches of trees dance about.
Sun, now a random pattern of golden arrays,
Takes a shy peek at the world through the flocks of sheep.
Last remnants of dandelion remain; the anchor is strong.
It's time for the bitty seeds to depart.
One by one, holding onto the feathered parachutes,
Children begin the goodbye chorus.
Trusting the Creator,
One winged seed makes its landing.
Rotten eggs lying about under the inner city walls.
Odor of human excretion rises up to greet the pilot.
Scarce earth, water deficit and blue shades.
And what good did her rushed steps do to the poor agent
When she hastened uphill to meet the sky
And how that same poor seed came to be,
The most beautiful dandelion next spring,
Its hold firm between the concrete blocks,
She would never know.
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