golden hours stretched 

over cottontails 

 

senses engaged 

without words to say 

 

feelings make marks

in dirt with rubber boots

 

play never leaves us 

we leave this place

 

you decide at once 

you’re an adult

 

you forget these 

pleasures and pains

 

sadness and longings

of childhood 

 

replaced with distaste

for children of today 

 

I think of you 

as a hurt animal  

 

lashing out against

the day 

 

twisting in thorns

patches of brambles

 

unable to relax 

with help on the way