The Innisfree Poetry Journal

by John Perrault

Dandelion Puffs

Only the angels
shaking out their wings,

mother said, tilting her head,
testing the breeze with a carrot red
hang-up the wash finger.

I remember her telling of Nana
shuffling from room to room
sprinkling holy water
within seconds of a flash,
watering down the first crash of thunder:

Only the angels
moving the furniture around
from one cloud to another—
now bless yourselves children
and back to sleep.

I remember the angels
coming to comfort her
when Nana flew off to heaven—
sheets flapping on the pulley line,
white puffs lifting off the lawn.

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