as unremarkable as were our lives
this was the world we knew in all its span
and coming back it seems not large or small
but just a place whose details once were keen
within the eyes and minds still sharp with hope
of me, my brother, sister -- in this grass
behind this fence and up these gentle hills
we played as children play, in joy and noise,
as children still do near here, I can hear --
and that a smile brings like nothing else:
the universal pattern come to life
in memories both gray and tinged with death
