Once sweet breath of light
spring clear air drawn in
early morning damp as dew
cool and fresh touches toes
in wet Keds that run
in morning fields to evening
woods so large and unexplored
unmapped and mysterious
until Ked’s don’t fit
beat, ragged and worn
easy spring breath turns
to asthmatic August gasps
heavy and time thickened
with the jaded stain
of age and there is no
time to explore morning
fields evening woods
as they don’t fit
and they are no longer
huge new or a mystery

Innocence