Violets- Poetry

Hayley LeRoy, Poetry Reporter

You know what I deeply miss?

Just the sky.

Just the way I used to live

and breathe the sky.

Just the way the cracks in the

concrete used to bloom dandelions and violets.

Whatever happened to violets?

They used to bloom everywhere,

at least, they seemed to.

I miss the innocence of ignorance.

I miss the whisper of the wind in the woods.

I miss moonlit nights,

scatterings of stars,

and dreamless skies.

I miss the sky . . .

the secrets of the sky,

and the way I felt like I could fly.

I miss not knowing how it feels to fall.

But I think I miss the dandelions and violets

most of all.