Dreams unwished

I pressed my nose against your fluff
careful not to breathe in or disturb
the thousand points of white
a dream for each one

Six years old in a field of wishes
hopes and dreams
thinking someday
they'd all come true

So I blew and blew
cascade of joy in tiny spears
whirling in a child's breath
toward a new life
and a thousand
new yellow babies

And now I leave the spears in place
the seeds unsown
because dreams rarely come true
it's a waste of breath to blow
and you're beautiful
just the way you are
and I am trying
to be beautiful too
just where I've been planted.