In the beautiful days of childhood, I was a kite
filled with the exhilaration of blue skies;
trees I climbed presented their branches
with the sweep of the grandest stairs;
clouds stampeded across my heavens and the road
was a flowing tide beneath my feet.
In the beautiful days of childhood, coloured umbrellas
rolled me onward
with smile a scarf, waving over my shoulder,
trailing back into the years;
like dreams, like smoke from an old train engine
dissipates in the attempt to go back.
