Caravels of Thought
Into a frail boyhood,
The moment seizes us
More than we grasp
Its shady edges.
Little by little,
We undress the bruised knees
And the warm wounds
To the grown-up day
That winks at the kites.
Take one handful of bitterness
And some silver frowns
Throw them into the face
Of the undimmed wheel
And the splashes of summer laughter.
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