SMALL GOD

Time was
cheap.

It lay scattered
all around

like shattered
Spring sunlight

tangled in hedges
or hung from trees.

There was almost
too much of it.

As if one small boy
could ever use it all up.

There was no end of it
as if there was only now.

Now, this
forever.

And so appeared the world
when I was 7.

A heaven
here on earth

that didn't need to be
prayed for.

Sunlight genuflected
to me

as if I were
the small God

of this
very moment.