Children
We hardly knew we were children
When we trudged like soldiers
Through the new snow
As it draped the barren maple
Trees
Of the northeast
In a new winter coat,
We barely knew another world sang like
A mutable wind,
Beyond the phantom of
Small town madness
Where matriarchal rules
Danced like the sugarplum fairy
Right into the minds of its youth...
So,
Some of us hitchhiked out,
Long hair and guitars in hand,
Some flew to colleges out west,
And those that never left
Couldn’t believe there could be
One small bit of grace
In a new chorus of thought
Right smack in the middle of change,
So they stayed,
Just to be sure the four
Precise seasons
Still snapped into place,
And they too
Had children
Who didn’t know they were children
Year
After year.
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