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Memories of DandelionsSometimes we're left to wonder,
wonder and wander across the endless
hay-fields in harvest season.
I oft stare up at that great
barrier above me during the later afternoon hours
when the sun sets skies aflame with a bursting howl
and the darkness meets the light of day and
It takes me back to my days as a boy
in the early spring light
picking daffodils and dandelions
because four leaf clovers eluded us.
We ran barefoot through the barley
and sunflowers would bloom abound.
Childhood's essence flowed through us then
That was the last time we saw each other
until our high school years
because my family moved
that feeling was hard to pin down
It was like dancing upon a bricked road
singing songs about brains and courage and homes far away
It was foreign and strange
being a stranger in a strange land
I still remember
they called me a coward because I didn't jump
into those raging waters below that reflected the sun's
bright and beautiful color.
I had never learned to swim
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