Young Innocence
Sweet dreams, soft and transparent,
Floated like feathers in the sky.
And through them could be seen all that ever was.
Or ever could be.
Naivete', shimmering and shining
With rainbow light.
Unaware of the deadends
And the could have beens
And the dark and frightening
Nights of coming life
Copyright © Susan Gibson | Year Posted 2019
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