A Dandalion

Weave me a little basket out of the anticipation

to see my daughter, and my mother too.

Fill it with sunshine to keep me warm,

when the wind takes my shirt off

to throw it over a vagrant’s shoulders

at the other end of the world.

Oh Time!

Don’t let me stay alone

in the front lawn of a stranger’s home,

a dandellion who does not remember

neither where it grew,

nor how it turned out to be

so far from its own self.