"To the fence and back!"
cried in running games,
mum and dad watching 
over the glorious lawn
just to the fence and back.
Pale clouds there and gone:
fade away imagined lambs.
Tales from beyond strange lessons,
storms whistling by dusk:
sage and rascal run 
shadow to shadow-
eagerly hunt angels;
pray to evade demons.
Easter island heads
still cultivate a lawn-
see me run, shadow to shadow.
Never the hero or fool
I found no angels nor demons-
not for them I sought,
but that mossed enclosure
now freely a vision.
Could you wake with a dream intact?
I call to thee from beyond and close
"It is me, the old ally returned".