Goosefoot and Lambs

This path is lined with memories
I’ve forgotten, or have never known.
Purple stems are sprouting
– At my left and at my right –
To the beat of children running,
Hiding, from a million covalent drops.

Oh, and here come a million again!
Falling down at my feet in a puddle
– So close, but never touching –
After a taking a million sacrificial
Suicidal leaps toward the murky
Depths below. (But they can neither
Die nor drown in my memory).