Summer of ’64

Sand turned to glass,
castles became see through
and life was a keepsake.

It was ours for the taking
until the developers
moved in
and the glass
became opaque

castles in the lake
and Avalon weeps.

In this half waking state
the night in abeyance,
the day has to wait
for its time

it comes too late
for me and that’s fate,

who cares anyway?

© 2016, John Smallshaw.