A two mile hike, 

Turned hours long journey.

There is much to see

Through my sister’s lens.

She picks weed upon weed,

Instructing that I force a 

Breath, strong enough to

Dislodge the pappus

From each.

She lies on the ground,

Climbs a fence to see 

from above.

No, step back,

Come forward,

Do this one to the left.

I wait, exasperated.

If you’ve seen one dandelion,

You’ve seen them all,

And we aren’t children anymore.

Two days later

I see my smile emerging

From behind a sea of tiny

Ballerinas dancing on the wind,

And I am reminded

To take the time 

To see the world,

As my sister sees it

Through her lens.