the moon boys, cold in the blue dusk flare,
sledging wide-eyed down the brazier nights,
and, wrapped in that primordial exhilaration, share
the once and only, the might be mights.
and when the hearth home fades
into the monochrome,
and when the gossamer threads
stretch as thin as thin from home;
the boys unchained sledge down their nights,
wild-minded under the zeitgeist moon;
and tobogganing down from their haughty heights,
they crash out, the great fun ended, albeit too soon.