The child rolled in the dust
with the old dog, imagining
that the world loved him,
that this small family
property was the universe.
Madness was a rarity.
Children dance more readily,
show and tell more freely,
while adults walk around,
clutching their wounds
and guarding their secret
worlds, appendages tucked
under to escape the winter.
More at http://jddehart.blogspot.com.
