ADOLESCENCE
Childlike still, we gaze at fleeting fairy thoughts,
Childlike still, we cast pale shadows in the air—
Civilized imaginations—weakling sparks
That we’ve folded fast in words—and buried there.
Look: A school of doves on silver-frosted wings
Hold the sunshine for a moment as they fly,
Toss a vagrant shaft of sunbeams in the air
As they float across a shining turquoise sky.
For a moment there’s the glitter of their wings ...
Just a moment ... then the sunbeam melts away
And the happy brightness of the turquoise sky
Has faded, like their silver wings, to grey.