Oh God, not to be young again
But to be young like a first kiss
Sprouting in the minds of those
Who haven’t kissed and think
They make a blessing of a curse.
Oh God, to be younger than this.
Like the sight of a parent kissing
Parent. To sense you’ve missed
Some buried clue that’s quickly
Lost within your comprehension.
Oh God, to be before all this
But wise to what comes next –
Like a room of laughter
And the door ajar and the season
Frozen and the ever-after.