Fragments of a time I knew, my past

Spill into the now I am being.

Finding mushrooms in a paddock

Filled with cow pats

In a childhood choked in sadness.

In the happy now I catch a glimpse

Of the fairy houses hidden

On family picnics in the bush.

The leaving of crumbs from our sandwiches

By their doors of bracken and twigs.

Our fertile minds enlivened

By the thought.

Part of me stayed there, is there still

Waiting for the family to return

I know they watch us

From some crazy hidden corner

To converge with my self

At the end.

Inside still a solipstistic child    

As we indeed all are deep down.    

The star of my own movie

And co-starring bit parts in others.

Feeble protests

When roles bring pain unwarranted.

Pollyanna thanks for grains of good.

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