Growing up we blew on dandelions to make a wish.  Every morning during the bombardment of Odessa, my childhood friend would post four words: "Доброе утро. Мы живы." Good morning. We are alive. I would find a dandelion and send her a photo. She would send one back. My wish is for the madness to stop....
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In distant lands, across the breeze,
Childhood whispers, memories tease.
Dandelions danced in the golden light,
Wishes woven, pure and bright.
 
With my friend, a bond untold,
Separate worlds, yet hearts unfold.
Photos sent, a timeless glow,
Seeds in the air, wishes flow.
 
Through pixels, dandelions soar,
In dreams, we wish, forevermore.
A friendship blooms, like seeds in flight,
Carrying wishes, day and night.