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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
© Johnmichael Simon
2016
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