Dandelion Seeds

A squirrel-like hoarder
the shelves bulge, hinges creak,
overstuffed drawers waterfall
in sunset pools of sappy sentiment

pinching odd moments tightly
between grey thumb and finger
for examination, repeat memorization
through rose colored, bifocal specs,

I try sticking them on paper,
embed them in web boxes,
even pin them to Facebook pages
scrapbooks and conversations

but they are defiant, as elusive
and flighty as dandelion flower seeds
dancing away on once youthful sighs
adrift in an inevitable encroaching autumn

while defiantly taunting, that
I’m one last, cold winter exhale,
one tenuous hair’s breadth
from never being able to touch them again.

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