DAY-DREAM by George Kiwanuka
The ghosts of those lost dead children call out to me… every now and then These ghost children desire to play Their lively playful chuckles frozen in time… Oblivious of today’s concerns Trapped in the past joys of their days They know and care not that in these cloudy murky days, Endless toil is the natural accompaniment to breath And that a minute lost in the sunny embrace of nostalgia is a whole handful of life-giving peanuts lost!