David Freed

(Walker, Minnesota, USA)

Dandelions - Poem by David Freed

When I was little
three or four
I liked to blow the heads
off dandelions grown white
And watch their little parachutes
float gently down.
But when a puff of wind
Would catch them up
And swirl them high above
I'd run along to watch them fly
for they were free
so much like me.

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Read poems about / on: wind, running

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003

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