Cantus in Memoriam Childhood

The smoke of childhood lingers, it

Weeps beneath arches of memory

Sugar-glass temples of deception

Window to that past of ever-sun

White autumn strokes

Cries in a peopled mist

Where now does the path lead?

Downwards, and soft ever-flowing

We gaze behind

Upwards to those stone shadows which once we touched

Ever out of reach

Ever more distant