Babel

Once upon a yesteryear,

My size three steps

Were but youth’s aching metronome

And vibratory pulse

Afoot our day glow playground

Of raucous rendezvous,

An atom bomb

Of impish haunt.

Do you hear our faded ricochet

That held imprints

From babble to Babel,

As oblivion’s snow white noise

Clapped out peals

Of static and canned laughter,

When a man, long since dead, yelled;

“Howdy Doody Time?”

And we char the page

With our snapshot flash,

Flame licked lightening

A memorial to the poetry

Of our animatic dance.

We were once black riders

Of the technicolour age,

Too young to die,

Too young to fade.

Do you hear our faded ricochet

As the gloaming eats the light?

While the murmurs rattling Saturn’s cage,

Hang halos in the night?

Memory’s weeping willow eyes

Drop their anchor lids aground,

As patchwork quilted souls of time

Are lost and never found.

For ashes are but derelict heirlooms,

Turned kilter, upside down,

And our childhood in Babel,

Sleeps hushed on fallow ground.