Dreams Smell Like Jasmine

By Charlotte Houston, TIWP Student

It’s that time of year again:  the time of wishes.

The earth spins and whirls and every year

we are thrown back, smack dab in the middle of here—

on a suburban street that’s sunbathing in new light.

The air is heavy with hope and promise—

haven’t you seen the petals flying by?

Here we are again, dandelions in hand,

blowing our own dreams out into the breeze.

They fly away with the rest

but once released, oh so hard to catch!

Elusive and weightless, we can never seem to grab ahold

of them again.

Standing under a dogwood tree, I plead:

Don’t let them fall.

Don’t let them go.

First you lose your pollen, then your seeds.

Hold on to your blooms!

Once they drop, they are lost

and so is spring.

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