Cracked

In the end, nothing's changed.

Dandelion

Only time witnessed the change
To this flower in the middle of the field
Almost drowning in the vast green
Almost undiscovered by eyes.
As I walk amidst the tall swaying grass,
My hands are barely touching the blades
And the air smells softly of the summer sun
The same yellow this flower used to be.
I caress the aged dandelion delicately
But it falls apart so easily in my hand,
So fragile and so promising 
And though I wanted to hold onto it, 
I opened my palm and gave into possibilities.

The Groundhog Force

The groundhog in my backyard, whom I've affectionately named Philippe.

Smoke

The smoke over the water
Slowly shape into familiar forms,
The silhouette of lovers,
Holding onto each other
Before they drown in air.
But they might as well be letting go
For time steals breaths,
And though your scent lingers
All I'm left are wisps of you.