fly away all sorrows (forcedcollaboration #1)

fly away all sorrows
Originally uploaded by *davidsαngle

In sunlight, the seeds become angels,
and the angels meet the earth and turn again to seed.

In the photo, the hand is my own childhood.
The sidewalk is one I'd forgotten, and there is laughter behind me.

I’ve been warned that there is a danger in nostalgia.
I’m sincerely wondering, what are the dangers in nostalgia?

I'm naïve. Mountains loom behind me and I am glad
for them—for their shadows and the way they mix clouds.

In my home town there was a story of a witch who
had lived through the town fire of 1912. A fire that burned

Everything but the clock tower. The story was
that the witch had set the fire. That she still burned.

The photograph does not catch the witch because
she is hiding behind the blur of the background.

After I blew the seeds from the dandelion, I was left
with the wilting green stalk. I reached out for her.

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