Guardian Spirits (2)

They ran these shores and swung these swings
And flew off into fantasy,
Their voices heard across the sound
As joy was its own sanity

I watched them from a spiral height:
My precious charges’ artlessness
An essay in supreme delight:
A perfect moment — marvelous —

But time moves on, and so do we.
They grew up, old, and moved away,
Their voices only shadows now
That blend into the creeping

Gray

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