i’ve exhaled the last of you,
and you fluttered.
you are the parachute ball of a dandelion,
floating… floating, gone.
no wishes made. none granted.
just a gentle breeze, and somber notes, soaring to the forgotten.
words by k.boyce. © 2010 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper
