Yesterday, hundreds goodbyes ago, I held a picked dandelion.
Its stem in my hand,
the flower bobbed and swayed,
to my delight,
to every breath and word I said.
As my face grew closer, my heart grew fonder to the flower.
Suddenly I sneezed and blew most of the petals away.
The few that were left, I cupped from the wind though I knew they wont likely stay.
Today I whisper goodbye to the wind,
for I cannot go where the dandelions were blown;
my path is land, yours is the sky.
my heart mellows and bellowed goodbye.
I will always be jealous of where you land,
still I let it go as the wind might be a better friend.
"Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead"
