I am a dandelion.
I pushed you and your petals out on the breeze
to drink of the Earth and Sun.
But you came floating back to me,
all your shifting features frozen, undone.
Why do you eat here, drinking the juice of your past?
Your lifetime is short, your blooming colors craving winds.
Hurry out, little seed;
make your essence last.

My gravel heart shakes in the wake of your steps,
beating me night and day.
Your claws dug
deep
deep
deep
through layers of
sand and
shell and
stubborn rock
to the core of smooth and silent water.

It began with a ripple and then with a wave;
how could I have known my life would never be the same?

You dug your way out
like you always, always do.
But my heart still churns churns churns.
You drained me of salt;
pebbles that float there
now sink

and they burn as they dip.

There's a little sparrow in my heart -
      he's fluttering around.
He hears the world outside my body -
      he's hushing at the sound
of sweet whisperings and happenings and murmurings
      and untold endings...
who told him when to grow?

He's scratching at the walls -
      his beak a twist in knots;
He must break free his ******* -
      before his spirit rots.
Fly, little bird!  Fly and free your soul!
Throw yourself asunder
before you get too old.

But, ah.
My love, he waits,
his hands are cupped
to catch the little sparrow.
That sparrow never saw but felt
his freedom
by an arrow.

Surly snipers slink
stealthily, silently, sure.
Soon someone shot, dead.

I follow you close.
No eyes, just heart till the day
Lemmings pirouette.

Selective mates.
Bugs' unconcern manifests;
Eagles dwindle, die.

Cracking pavement lines
Bleed to puddles disturbed; my
tears that fall like dimes.