Wednesday, April 6, 2011

cake breath and grass stains

Childhood is a strange country.  It’s
A place you come from or go to—
At least in your mind.  For me it has
An endless, spellbound something
In it that feels remote.  It’s like a
Little sealed-vault country of
Cake breath and grass stains where
What you do instead of work
Is spin until you’re dizzy.

By Lyall Bush

Photos courtesy of English Muse.

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