let my field of dreams begin.


let my field of dreams begin.
by rory byrnes
it’s the season;
the season for those days
and those weeds that sprout up.
they makes the kids laugh and
the gardeners cry.
d a n d e l i o n s
they cover the fields in their sperm,
blowing, every which way.
they have nothing to hide.
no cares,
no worries.
they live and
we die.
their leave their mark and the whole world notices.
it’s the first day of summer
and the coke’s worn off….
and all i see are D A N D E L I O N S.

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