-a poem for Aysia
Since the age of three
she’s been reciting familiar
rhymes and wishing on stars.
There’s a fountain in Ghirardelli Square,
sea turtles and mermaids on rocks
breastfeeding merinfants,
where wishes are sunken coins.
In December she tossed in a dime.
The backyard is smothered
by dandelions turning white.
Last summer, her small hands
held one out to me,
Look mommy, a wishing flower!
She closed her eyes and inhaled,
formed a perfect pucker and blew
tiny parachutes into the air.
I ask, What do you wish for?
She looks up, her brown eyes earnest
and whispers, You can’t tell wishes,
they won’t come true.
But I know she wishes
for no such thing as
divorce.
The mower grinds and spits.
I top one and watch her seeds drift
off on the wind; breakaway wishes
destined to be weeds.