Nowadays, wildflowers don’t dance in December,
But once upon a time there were fairies with blue wands.
I promise I try, but it gets harder to remember.
The flickering of office building lights past the picket fence are like fireflies,
That feature ad nauseum in children’s books, and I forget when by the ponds,
Nowadays, wildflowers don’t dance in December.
It’s disconcerting sometimes to look back at the goodbyes,
And plants stay longer than people do — I run my hand through their fronds.
I promise I try, but it gets harder to remember.
And who was that who liked cardinals because they sounded like the sunrise?
Maybe that girl in the odd dresses (bluebonnets painted on their wintry fonds) –
Nowadays, wildflowers don’t dance in December.
And the chocolate milk was always sour, but third graders learn to hide sighs,
And when I’m called innocent I think back to trees’ shadows on nine year-old blondes,
I promise I try, but it gets harder to remember.
Miniscule footprints once marked my driveway, hands full of cream from pecan pies.
And once upon a time (I swear it’s true), fairies did have blue wands.
Nowadays, wildflowers don’t dance in December.
I promise I try, but it gets harder to remember.