thoughts on adoption
So graciously they came to flight
the hopeful helpless thunder feet
a wonder peril of sweetest destiny—
Hush the yellow breath of youth.
My mother was a dandelion;
a child of spring who—white tipped—
fall time scattered her loveliness a-gail.
& we were seed babies, the loneliest
of kinfolk. Trilling about in the southbound
winds, propellors. By night we
saught the dog star,
untangled leo’s mane,
unbuckled orion’s belt.
& we were happy—to be swept away
by high breezes / to root ourselves
amid gardens, beside blessed blooms
our hearts cracked open to reveal
a green gnawing to grow & like the mums
among us we were trimmed / pruned / fertilized.
But I wonder of my mother—a capricious weed.
If someday too I’ll flock my seeds
to be forgotten.