Childhood, a precious playtime, an eternity of tender liberty. Today,
limits with perceived boundaries, seeking serenity. It
took years to go back, when we did, a moment had not
elapsed. The same solid iron A-framed curly rubber-seated swings
swung, filled with us, launching us backard, forward, out of, and
into our past. The slide slid us downward; pages
windspept from a century calendar.