Innoscence

I was innoscent once.

A kind word for ignorance.

Too soon I forgot the fragrance

Of the fresh mown grass in the ball field.

Auroro borealis. Lying on my back at night,

Looking up at dancing lights and galaxies.

One day I began looking down.

Slumped with books and memories,

Scurrying crab like from class room to office,

In doors. Away from the sun and stars.

I do not know if ever I knew you.

I was such an idealist in a realist creation.

Counting kisses while others counted dollars.

It may have been a tease. We teased back then.

Before the politically correct killed laughter,

And stared as glass eyed fish,

Swimming in their own soiled waters.

Sometimes now I do look up

On days without the smog

And putrid stench of dying slogans,

I remember freedom.

Something the licensed can not recall.

Like making snow angels, auroro borealis,

And play.