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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 9, Number 2, June 2015

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Dru Philippou
Taos, New Mexico, USA


Enduring Moments

Where is that perfect childhood when I could have dropped everything to bike in the woods while dark was still falling—with only the rhythm of chain and gears?

Where is that seaside town with its pink and lemon house fronts? Where is that warm air—a blend of caramel apple and candyfloss? Where is that ruffled swimsuit every girl wears when bobbing between waves—that handy bucket and spade for collecting shells?

Where are those hours I could have been spoilt silly with dolls—maybe one different from the others—a doll with unruly hair and loose button eyes that I might have planted with hidden kisses—a doll with a worn hand from being held too much, the one with a big grin as if I had just told her a secret?

Where are those windy days that might have billowed a favourite aunt’s skirt and dragged her off balance far down the alley? Surely, this kind of weather is best for flying kites, when it feels like there is something alive at the end of a string.

summers rich
with stained fingers
and laughter
children picking
blackberries

they vanish
into imaginary lands
beyond
their careless tread
of harebells

ever farther
through a breach
of tangled hedge
a babbling brook
endlessly calls

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