In my foggiest haze, I remembered a memory,

A bittersweet moment in childhood that now is just forgotten history.

I remembered two coloured paper boats,

One made of blue paper, one as white as the hand that pushed it along.

Two small children giggling about,

Their tiny feet were as if dressed in Hermes winged sandals ready to leap and fly beyond.

Past the trees, the fields and familiar stones,

Past the houses made of wood with puffing chimneys on.

They were ready to drift along the stream,

See the world and all the treasures hidden in it.

But soon the paper boats got soaked right in,

Tore from the water as the kids stopped and wept.