I am a dandelion
growing awkwardly amongst beautiful flowers
and am usually cut down
by those who don’t see me
as pretty enough
You told me:
You are my only wish
And I tried my hardest to come true
You wished upon me
And
               I
                             flew
I got stuck in your eyelashes
Where I stayed
Until the wind rushing through the window of your old pickup truck
Blew me into a field
Of grass
Where like a phoenix I rose again.
Now the wish you made is impossible
Because
I am here
                                                                ­            And you are there

I wonder if you are on patrol right now
I can see you
In your uniform
Camouflaged
Hiding
(from what, exactly?)
the wind blowing through your hair
like the wind rushing through the window of your old pickup truck
Only drier

                                                          ­                  I wish dandelions grew in Afghanistan

Or maybe
As I write this you are firing a weapon
At a foreign enemy
(or is he?)
whose lover lies awake at night in fear
just like me
except
she is there
                                                           ­                Am I am here
Growing in a field of grass
                                                           ­                Not sand
And I wish for nothing more
Than to be tucked away in one of your pockets
Next to your gun
(Or maybe your Bible)
A fading memory
Of a wish that tried so very hard
To come true.