Calling all cars

 

Dandelions

Little puffs of the dandelion riding spring breezes,
Maybe miles, maybe more, little spores finding new
Pastures.

Millenniums. Wars trodding over their minute buds,
Fallen sons choking as they grasp bloodied swords,
Then the droughts, then the floods, then the darkened

Skies blacked with locusts, still those deep roots
Hold on.
Yellow blooms carry forth the ancestry of a million

Years. A million more will come as we spin and spin
Around the yellow bloom of life giving light,
Carrying forth our own spores, looking

To find new pastures, riding the winds of time,
Over grounds trodden by horses, bloodied by
Men.

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About Pitboss14

Cosmic surfer of paradoxes.
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