Old Dandelions


end of summer 
dandelions aged white
     gone to seed
     growing parachutes for
next year’s host
to catch a ride
millions of travelers
     in this yard
     waiting for a child’s breath
to begin their journeys

stopping only when the air is slack
gliding to the ground
     in the neighbors yards
     the parks
     the cemetery
laying on the ground
waiting for fall rains
     to soften the ground
for tendrils dig in
waiting for spring