In a dream I saw them
as clear as light
All the flowers of my childhood
The greens and golds
I walked past at midnight
Wispy dandelion seeds swept along cedar
by youthful breath
Clover necklaces
with knots in their stems
Distinct as the flowers of my adulthood
White and exotic and some
bearing fruit
Others only peeking long after
sun gone to slumber
Reds and yellows and umber
Some I cannot name
yet some the same
As those in the garden of
spirit’s infancy.
Busted Flip Flops 