'Maze' Poem by Marty McKenna

Where water wets, memory pulls - age four
Or maybe five - The clanks excite still now
Unknown game - Symmetrical Blocks, of where
Mother and I, Windows of the van

Blanked

My mind at play, on grass outside of time
Blocks of thick trim bush, cornered to perfect
Where I'm lost, Gates a Sentence of lost lines
Then - Grand doors - Smaller and smaller

Inside

Wax-scented squeaks, these same floors Royalty
and Statesmen trod - As we're marched a-rabble
Through the body search, I slunk Unclaimed - I
Playing with Blocks - Fell deep into this maze

A fruit smuggler, I