We frolicked, hide and seek before twilight stole our sight
The hairy village market was our maze, thick, tall and tangling
Over the hill that drowned our houses, we wheeled Bedford’s blackÂ
Michelin was our favourite, big, bold and beautiful
Carefree, if the orb of fire high up smouldered our bare skin
Or the sky spat spittle unrestrained, mama would fry pancake.
Innocence
We embraced the burning lamp
When grandma told us the wicked faded away quick
We believed the fairy tales, no willing suspension of disbeliefÂ
Moral lessons were opiates that suppressed the beast within
As for the luminous shoes we wore to church on Sunday
They sang each step of the rugged way, Clementine
Experience
The wicked taunted us with life
Like fish dancing to the curl of the restless stream
We followed the wind of grandpa’s flute
To the hidden whiff that fed our souls with fresh air in March
Papa’s coins we took and the white lies we spewed
Stuck to our wavy imagination, indelible stains
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And the tick-tock never halted
Till the childhood was no more than
A memory that tortured us with nostalgia.
Photo by Seth DoyleÂ
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Awesome
Good work