Wish On A Dandelion

Sitting in the middle of my bedroom floor, carpeted, stacking quarters

On the thin metal divide between closet and room

The dimes and nickels and pennies are abandoned

Their own stacks left to nestle haphazardly in the fuzz

There is nothing precise about it, clinking as they fall against each other

I curse their unevenness, unwillingness, and you laugh

Your shadow thrown wide along the wall and

In my minds eye, there are galaxies within, swirling, flickering, imploding

Each speck of light wavering like a candle flame, leading eternally to

Change, a wish on a clover, a wish on a golden

Dandelion, now pale, umbrella-clad seeds, pinwheeling into the unknown