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The Little Painted Gate

But the longer they spent

in that enchanted land,

the farther they wandered

amid narcotic blooms

and doe-eyed creatures

out of well-remembered legends,

the more bread crumbs

they dropped behind them,

all of which were swallowed

by small and timid things,

the fainter their memories

became of Mother, Father,

their own dear home,

and the Sisters at School,

until, blank slates, the children

were overwritten by that place,

becoming its creatures,

living in the moment,

large-eyed and lost to time.