I remember a dandelion necklace, dewy stalks
strung together with Mother's nail file,
child-size suns around my neck, protective talismans.
Across road from our upstairs rooms,
a creaky swing set deep in green. Lone rider,
I squint at sky. Fluttering wings for company,
a momentary dark. After shadow, blinding
brightness again. Floaters in vitreous.
Everything I try to see disappears.
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