CHILDHOOD LASTS FOREVER

I remember
standing in my lawn
as a young child,
the world stretched out
before me,
forever endless, infinitely immense,
anything and everything
possible.

Time was as long
as a perpetual summer day.
Everything new and
unexplored, yet
all seemed safe
in it's risks.

All lay in soft, shade-edged lines
merging reality and fantasy together,
everything musical and magical.
The world was seasons of changing
colors, smells, touches, and sounds,
of heaven above and hell deep underground,
of monsters and fairies and toys and feeding the ducks,
of new friends and school and
ringing bells on ice cream trucks,
of swimming and make believe and innocent purity,
of books and movies and t.v. and the security of home,
of vivid virgin emotions and learning and fun,
of everything beyond the stars and moon,
of everything under the clouds and sun.

And when the memories have dimmed,
exaggerated or faded
as the years swept so swiftly by,
and when older I realized,
childhood lasts forever,
then it is gone.

1992