Quoth the Maven, Evermore

Of birds and rocks and sticks and stones

And wooly worms and old dog bones

Of creeks gone dry and railroad tracks

And stale canteens in old knapsacks

Of this, a man remembers most

His childhood then—but now a ghost

Of clover chains and butterflies

And hummingbirds and pale blue skies

Of satin ribbons on ballet shoes

And Easter frocks in pastel hues

Of this, a woman ponders long

And savors most when childhood’s gone

Sue Brooks

Department of Surgery