Young City

The city I loved when young
is gone. Nobody wants me
back. I have too much
work to do there
and nobody will let me do it;
scoop away the
concrete and free
the streams from fishless
steel pipes.

I cannot easily return to
what is no longer there.
If I could though,
it would do me no good,
for then I would
return to the moment
I first entered life.

I would let no one talk me
again out of chasing
swallowtails with a net
and passing the high
hours of the curious
day with baby frogs.

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