My son and daughter

Standing in a meadow together

He’s covered in streaks of dirt

And her knees bloody from a fall that hurt

An argument ensued

They look my way for me to choose

Who is right and who is wrong

A different day, but the same old song.

Fuzzy wisps twinkle past my eyes

Making me smile as the ethereal seeds float by

I ask my children to look at the dandelions scattered in the field

And...