©Don’t Blow On My Dandelion Wine

cloud-piercing trees

 

It was like the Titanic
only it was me sinking
in our enchanted garden of
earthly delights;
it was like cloud-piercing
trees standing as sentinels expressly
on the watch for all of
my dreams and desires being
gathered for one last ride
in the time capsule of love.
Time was the thief; it was
11:59.9999 when I
walked the tightrope of
a time in the past.

I awakened chilled like
my favorite bottle of
Clos d’Ambonnay;
oh, you could have drunk me
low and high, night and day—
but for the magician in you
who became invisible like stars
twinkling in a mid-day sky,
who left that twinkle in my eye—
left me naked, exposed, vulnerable…
with knee-shaking bravery and defiance.

When I wasn’t boxing shadows
created from your misunderstandings,
I was smiling a vocabulary of love
for a man with no light-cast silhouette.
This feels like cloud-piercing
trees standing as sentinels expressly
on the watch for all of
my dreams and desires being
gathered for one last ride
in the time capsule of love and
there’s a mystical alchemy
of tears and rain
becoming my dandelion wine.
Mimi Wolske
All Rights Reserved

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