Woody lanes
Lazing through these woody walks
Raptures and skills chill stilled among the
Bracken crackle of childhood warmths
Arraigned into a crumbly mess
And I am fast adult
Gaping past locked window branches
Seeking sky through thicket drapes
Escape the realms of spluttering laughter
Left behind like awful dreams
They are not true
Nor this nor these
Each step in ginger stealth I guess
Unsavoury unease
And yet such bravado is born
Of nought but childhood dreams..
Monday, June 25, 2007
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)