We Did This

The secret garden
of our collective childhood
is graffiti covered.
"We did this"
I read by lamplight,
and it was us.
This foliate place,
our teenage years,
become a place of dread.
The monumental hours
of our adventures
have developed shadows.
Only the brave now
are out to play
in the alleyways of evening.

 

 

 

Contents page . . .