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Dandelion Children

There are moments

when curtains part

for a chink of time


Great great grandmother

a petticoated child

about your age

wobbling on a Penny-Farthing bicycle

her mustachioed father telling her

she’s like a flea on a pole


Remember girl

as you ride your bubble of light

across a continent of bobbing

floating children laughing

effortlessly into each other’s minds


That once we were glued

to the surface

of that worn-down blue globe

our thoughts transmitted via

paper books and flickering screens


School was a place to be walked to

on leaf-strewn paths, unbubbled,

breathing air with endless oxygen


And tomorrow was a place

that yesterday could never reach

even if you freed your hands

lifted your arms

and wobbled all over the garden

imagining you were a dandelion

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© Johnmichael Simon



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