I’ve wished my whole life;
to be a helicopter pilot,
that WVU would win a championship,
for peace of mind.
I’ve been encouraged to wish.
It’s 11:11, make a wish.
See that shooting star? Make a wish.
Blow out your candles, make a wish!
I throw a penny in a well.
I break off the big part of the wishbone.
I whisper to a ripe dandelion and
watch the seeds float away on the breeze.
But wishes don’t always come true.
Sometimes they’re sure not to,
like when that dandelion you pluck
grows at the base of your uncle’s grave marker.
There’s horror in knowing
that no matter how hard you wish
he’ll never again be here
to pluck a flower for himself.
Still, for him, I wish.