Childhood in the Woods


golden hours stretched 

over cottontails 


senses engaged 

without words to say 


feelings make marks

in dirt with rubber boots


play never leaves us 

we leave this place


you decide at once 

you’re an adult


you forget these 

pleasures and pains


sadness and longings

of childhood 


replaced with distaste

for children of today 


I think of you 

as a hurt animal  


lashing out against

the day 


twisting in thorns

patches of brambles


unable to relax 

with help on the way 

◄ Am Wasser gebaut

Negotiating Curves ►


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