Puttied Panes

Puttied Panes Puttied panes, encased in pink-primed steel Watch tiny rivers wend their downward way, While puddles form where thin green spikes reveal A just sown lawn, where one day I may play. New houses; salmon bricked, like some great quilt. Stark line posts, straight as soldiers, stand erect, All razor edged, where blood may soon be spilt In play; and then, through life, I’ll yet reflect Those nightmares, wrought from childhoods fragile dreams That circumstance, in one swift move, has made. A jagged hole lays bare the fragile seams Of security; a mornings sun filled glade. Another day, another shower of rain, Distorts the past and waters down the pain.