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Breazey Dream

To walk in a field of dandelions and tall grass
It was all going fine until we broke our backs
He’s stuck there still trying to figure it out
A dream catches a breeze
Out the door and down the road she goes
To begin living our dreams we must first wake up
Modes of the infinite time it takes to beckon this truth
To see and squint from under glass
Give to life when it asks you until someone said
The cutter of grass works in shelved audacity
The tops of dandelions chopped off
Tumbling to the piles of earth floor
Gathered into brown paper bags
That other woman was an alpine flower
Left him on an unanswered cliff edge
Trying to figure it out




Poetry lover and writer.

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