Dandelion Roots
She has a tumbledown deck, a creaky rocker.
Dandelion seeds carry memories
from one neglected garden patch to another.
She’s not that old, but her wine has mulled,
a hard sun has scoured her features.
There were children once. They play
now upon her mind
as crippled backwoods memories.
The ‘law’ took them, and the grinding years
brewed more bitter coffee, while on the decking
coffee cans were filled with cigarette butts.
‘No-good lovers’ still occasionally
practiced their shoddy dance steps,
but even the one night stands have dwindled
to hasty matinee tumbles.
Few life choices were well made or unpaid for,
yet in the ***-end of each day
she wanders upon her dandelion patch,
and prays to the girl she once was,
then she retires to a tousled bed
to sleep with the rootless shadows
that float as light as air
through her ramshackle nights.
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