What Made Sense Then

The sky was bluer than the truth,
The days were green with kindness,
And what our limitations were
Less known to us than now —

And where we gathered, laughter grew,
Like moss upon a treeside;
We swung out on a tire swing,
And flew when we let go —

What made sense then was not the world,
For it’s been ever troubled:
Our dreams were dark with mushroom clouds
And polymorphic fears,

But others worried for us, we were
Busy being children,
And didn’t see our lakes and rivers
Came from others’


2 thoughts on “What Made Sense Then

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