Poets and Children
make Snow Angels in the sand
In August.
Swearing they see their breath
as they laugh.
Poets and Children
believe in Magic and Love and Happily Ever
Hopscotching through life
catching lightening bugs

Naming them 
and then letting them go
Yelling,”NOT IT!!!”, at the top of their lungs.
But when Life
taps them on the shoulder
with it’s cold, hard truths
We are all diminished.
Everyone turns away
from the tears
of poets and children.

Kathy Keogh

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