Standing on a cool green bank
watching a bowed stream move
through the shoal toward a far-away
sea secure in it journey’s end, endless,
rocky weather worn and grained.
Across it a Willow grows, filled with nimble
squirrels searching for food; brown nuts
cracking, fish splashing.
These are the sights and sounds of my
childhood, skinny legs running, torn breaches,
runny nose, toothless grins, and scraped shins.
Hiding beneath the ledges of caves, fearless,
trusting, happy days in the fresh clear air;
remembrances of these days hidden behind
a fog of despair. Childhood forever lost.
Your joy did not last your voice is no longer a
pleasing song; life has frozen your senses; your
soul. Soon your sweet breath of life will float
through the air, everything dies; your days are few.