A thousand regrets

The blossoms were ravenous, and wild.
They swallowed a streetlight and turned into a huge
glowing dandelion, snatching passers-by
in their intimate net of shadows. 

No one remembered how to approach 
such a vicious thing. Finally it fell into a mosaic
of shriveled tissue, gasping in the acrid glare.

All summer the wind was herding voices
behind its flat skies, and I was one of them – 
a voice telling you I was finally ready to leave. 

I was being called away, like an untethered balloon
destined to smile down on this empty 
corner of a chessboard. Then it was autumn
and still you nodded patiently. 

The cats abandoned their stares, their boxes
of sun snapped shut. Words dissolved into flat, wet 
steps, gongs against the dark drizzle.