Dandelion Puffs on the Wind

As a bird fidgets
with a seed
the girl taps
the reload button
over 
and over
till her finger
is smushed flat
and her eyes
are stained
with pixels
nothing new
comes when she 
reloads 
again
and again
eyelids close
black on the screen
chargeless
from her demands
she slaps her fingers
on her desktop 
in disgust
mouth sinching
brows narrowing
a small
huff
pinched from her lips
but she stops
unclenching her face
she looks at nothing
sitting on her window
galaxys floating 
beyond her pupils
whispering cries
beating on her drums
she sees 
the nose curling
ingredients 
inside the hotdog
the things shiny wrappers
try to hide
she sees
people running
and hiding
and crying
and craddling
babies
already running
before they can walk
fearing the places 
that once held
them tight
people on the streets
not a crumb
in their pocket
nor a coin
only holes
the people who work
for many spins of 
time
til
they make
the little handful
that is thier lifeline
people fighting
on the frontlines
and in the smallest 
restaurants
floating on boats
made from 
courage
hardwork
and perserverance
but the children
huddled
with no lullabys
look into their eyes
brimmed with a weight
no child should carry
lined with silver tears
cutting streaks
down their faces
the girl starts
coming from
the stars
back to her spot
before
the computer's
big 
black 
eye
a single tear 
slips from her lashes
onto the reload
key
the desk
flowing with pencils
and erasers
and papers
looked at by the girl
as dispossable
replaceable
nothing but dandelion
puffs on the wind
the cry of the world
echoes in her ear
she twists her fingers together
tight as the promise
coilded round her heart
she would
never
never
again
take what she had
for granted
the clothes
the ceiling
the freedom
she would 
never
never
again
ask the night sky
for more than 
she had already been 
given
a beating
heart
and a sturdy mind
because 
how rich would
the soil be
if we planted
our seeds
with a bit 
more 
appreciation


 

AvaClaire

VT

19 years old

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