the blocks of childhood

solid, set square in red brick,

yet from the start porous, lined

by a cancerous quick

so soon perished

barely noticed we chalk one up

then tally them daily

our stars of awe and wonder

in diligent swathes

until the toehold twists

and the road falls away

when the choked black

fear stacked Sunday Psalms

choose today

(a reflection on the loss a Neil Armstrong and Louise Clarke, ex Pan's People dancer, and how quickly the icons of childhood are vanishing)