I used to write poetry

Not the way it’s supposed to be runs through
A block of time memories and space memories
An earnest child looking at understanding
Through lenses made of handed down ideas that while moving cannot be seen

A tiger in a cage
Pacing the length of the jungle
Pacing the length of the cage
Again and again

And wonder and naive profundity
At stones from outer-space
And their place
In an understanding of the universe

This I used to write but no records remain and this is all I write