childhood…

being that time when nothing has yet leaked out
nor fallen away – they are all there
who and what you love and you dont know yet
it will not all stay – that nothing can ever
stay this way -the granny next door
who bakes cookies [they’re just for you
though she pretends they’re not]
the popsicle man who calls you by a funny name
the beach and the scraggly dunes
the kids jumping rope in the park
the librarian who smiles
and never makes you pay the overdue
they are all permanent features –
a landscape / cityscape
in tecnicolour sound surround
ice-skate-hot-chocolate heaven.
First step in growing up is loss –
when taken is what seemed
forever given

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