In The High Leaves Of A Walnut

In the high leaves of a walnut,

On the very topmost boughs,

A boy that climbed the branching bole

His cradled limbs would house.

On the airy bed that rocked him

Long, idle hours he'd lie

Alone with white clouds sailing

The warm blue of the sky.

I remember not what his dreams were;

But the scent of a leaf's enough

To house me higher than those high boughs

In a youth he knew not of,

In a light that no day brings now

But none can spoil or smutch,

A magic that I felt not then

And only now I touch.