Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie
Sometimes I wish, I think, I could have lived my life
without the soul stretching exercise.
I could have been a dandelion floating on the wind
at the whim of every breeze.
I would have been happy blowing across the open fields
a dandelion puff scattered every which way
sacrificed for a wish by a child with a grin and scuffed knees.
No heart to be broken, no regrets to sleep on at night
just a hundred puffs floating this way and that.
Maybe a flower opening my petals for just one day
drifting on a whim as the wind carried me away.
I could have been a feather fallen from an angel’s wing
floating past your window
as under the covers you snuggled
not seeing me or any thing.
I would have sprinkled blessing dust
across your windowsill
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