Lost Wishes

In light-polluted skies

planes replaced our shooting stars

so we’ll hunker down on hill tops

to an open canopy of black

waiting till sunrise in vain

for rocks to fall and burn

up in our atmosphere.

.

Each year that passes

a distance grows from

our childhood memories

of a secret we kept when we

sang tunelessly at birthdays–

growing up meant cakes

no longer came with candles.

.

Bronze statues sit idle and tarnished

since the pump replaced the well

and as turning on a tap

brings crystal clear water

and as copper and nickel coins

no longer fill our pockets

the well remains dry of our tokens.

.

Open fields and parklands

have become a distant memory

and walks are now a rare occurrence

so with custom grass

freshly mown dandelions struggle to grow

and no seeds parachute delicately

across a pleasant zephyr.

.

In the days of animal husbandry

no food or meat was left to waste

and even the bones themselves

carried a heavy weight.

To break the fork evenly was good luck

but since we need not toil for our morsels

there is no need to eat these noble creatures.

.

Where do we turn for the wishes we desire?

do we put our faith in the predictable 11:11?

or hope all our lashes fall out?

do we buy wishes at the local market?

or do we hunt down lost folklore for a fix?

.

Our modern world has left us bereft

so now all we can do is throw coins into buckets

or wish upon a plane instead.