i want to put your youth in my pocket
and save it for a rainy day

i want to tell you dylan thomas was brilliant
and bob dylan was his love child

i want to tell you to listen

but i know you won’t hear anything i say
with my cloak of old age singing me
invisible to you and your friends

i want to tell you nothing kills you but death
not heartbreak or disappointment
failure or ridicule
loss or even down and out

even so
you will die a tiny bit every day

in the same way a tree dies every time
a leaf drops

and a mirage gives up when you see it

but you

and me

we’re all dandelions

growing where we land

sending down our tap root of survival
blooming garishly bright
and then withering grey

and even when we’re spent

there are seeds

to catch a ride on a breeze
and carry us
into tomorrow

so i hold my tongue
because you are young
and i’m just the sun
holding court
with yesterday’s clouds





A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo. see more here.
Also linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night, join us!

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