My childhood was carried by play amongst nature,
imagination & myth
My childhood was carried by play amongst nature, spirit, imagination & myth
I can’t imagine what so many children live today
Cynical too young, broken horizons, not know the
seasons & the birds’ names
What kind of poetry will they sing
Who never get past learning to read
So that they never read to learn
My brother Greg & I walked miles through the hills
Climbing logs across creeks & gullies
& climbing cliffs by the sea
We dived down deep into rock pools
& watched & laughed & gaggled &
dreamed
It seems inevitable that a few years later for both of
us
Would visit visions of infinity & eternity
It was only a small log to cross
Books were read to us & we learned reading young
My father was an amazing story teller
He enthused over reading to me
His tones were enthralling
Of course I became a poet
I was the way I was bred.
Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2023.
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