There's something you will do,
Before the clock sweeps past nine,
That will make time stand on its head,
Etched in your memory forever—
The apotheosis of childhood imagination.
It might be writing a play
Whose characters had never been dreamt,
Or drawing an intricate maze,
The length of your entire hallway.
The tragedy is, we can never recapture
The elusive ether—
The only thing you can do is notice
With the greatest of curiosity,
The spark in another
And stoke the flame
With your warm breath.
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Your warm breath0:00 / 0:36
Part of a living collection since September 2024.