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dandelion seeds
sidewalks woven like concrete rivers between fields of green
where my kind poke their heads out among the blades
their golden hair since faded to white
so fragile, waiting for a breeze to disperse
thousands of futures encased in tiny pods
I pass rooftops aglow in the evening sun
the giants seem small from up here
I watch them take spears and tridents
to the hard-fought roots of my family
they curse our arrival, spraying death
taking joy in forcing us to wither away
I must keep floating elsewhere, out of reach
for I long to grow, to bloom, to live
perhaps past a desert where metal and wood
create shelters for smaller giants
sand clings to their shoes
while they trample through grass as if it’s nothing
whispering wishes in our ears
ushering us into the sky
before they disappear into buildings impenetrable
as the sun vanishes below the horizon
the hope glimmering in their eyes
and the kindness in their hands
when they gently plucked my kin
by the stem
remain caught in the fluff
that lifts me through the sky
and I regret my inability
to grant their wishes
like some all-powerful fey creature could
but I am just a seed
suspended in the winds
looking for a soft place
to take root
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I wrote this following the prompt "suspended in air", since I love writing with nature imagery. As I was writing, the piece sort of developed themes of tolerance versus intolerance and hope. I hope you like it, because I do!