They toddle run stomp in a fizzy giggle burst
Through the gates. I see their thirst for flight.
I know each small hand that picks me first –
Clings my strings, pumps with tiny might.
Some mums join in, aiming to achieve
Lost ribbons of twin-plaited aviation
My skeleton frame spins what they believe:
Woolly hat heads to an unseen constellation.
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They hitch their dream star to my wagon
As they grow up and gain time, mine’s run out:
A shared dream, a lost magic dragon
The salt squeak of chains forged from all these long years
Stop me from following and betray lonely tears.
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