It’s a town where the little ones dream big.
3 foot tall and dreams 20 foot high;
5 of them could stand a hundred foot
heads in the clouds,
for years allowed.
Parents and teachers, neglect and nurture:
be heroes and winners, politicians and pilots,
astronauts and astrophysicists,
comic book characters and England captains.
You’ll find a way.
Then disappointment spreads like blood dropped into milk,
the die in toothpaste. Soon it swirls and no one
knows who was disappointed first, who remembered
that horizons are never more than five days away.
We forget who made dreams into wishes
and wishes into fireworks that burn so bright,
they blind and deafen and burn our desires away.
We crane our necks to look up into the sky.
But we’re 3 foot tall and the wishes are
a hundred foot away.