I'm walking you girls back
From the train station in the dark
When you both stoop, to snap at dandelions
Shimmying out of a crack in the pavement
And I’m immediately transported back to
our walks
When you were young
At the time
It was a welcome indulgence to know
You were old enough to walk
But still insistent we take the
stroller
So I could cart you like twin, gliding
empresses
Upon your royal sedan
Inevitably, at your command
We would halt
To select from nature's open curio
cabinet
Stocked by, as you both had called her, “Mother
Garden”
Which I refused to correct
I gave you treats
To keep your mouths content
With something sweet and constantly
melting
Upon your happy red tongues
Sometimes, a lollipop
Which, minutes later
Would resurface, wordlessly
Dual, empty flagpoles of no special allegiance
Your eyes continued to dance
Over the slowly advancing corridor of
foliage
Hungry to spy the next prize
The next addition to our growing cache
Of Nature’s exotica
Which we never, ever kept
You were showing me the world again
A different world than the one I knew
A world where a marbled orange stripe
Through an otherwise plain pebble
Was a magical and miraculous gift
You both shout now
And I’m startled back into the present
You are excited by how distinct and long
your shadows are
In the harsh beacon light of a gas
station’s signage
There’s a pealing joy in your screams
As you both karate-chop at my shadow
And with the same motion
Empty your hands
To let the dandelion heads fall
