It has been good here in the cracks
A lot of fine things have been preserved.
Portraits of princes, objet d’art,
Quills lacing words and wishes
Not to mention the day long wanderings
A wish can make a palace shine with life
But outside the world is lonely
Without the honeyed talk from the bushes
The written warnings from the hawk
Where the brooch of a goddess is left
Deserted in some plastic jewellery box.
The children know. They find things and
give them meaning, then a light shines.