Stuck between
Sense and bohemia
Hoping my son
When he grows
Will take his belle or beau
Into the woods
And explore
Feel the excitement
Of skin and leaves
And bark
And ferny floor
Like I once might
And might once more
Yet inhibited
By the fear
That what
We all we hold dear
Is so quickly taken
In a world so harsh
When we want
To run free
Embrace love and life
Feel the things
We don't see
But constrained
By the knowledge
Or perhaps
A new reality.